Honestly For You
by Harper008
Summary: [C&M] Monica and Chandler have been trying to get pregnant for close to eight months with no avail when finally it begins to wear on their relationship. [chapter eight added].
1. One.

**- This story takes place about eight months after Emma's birth, and Monica and Chandler have been trying to get pregnant, but to no avail.**

-This is my first friends fanfiction, although I've been writing ER fanfiction for a few years. So yeah, hopefully you guys will like it :)

- As always, I don't own the characters. Never have. Never will.

**------**

**Honestly For You**

By Breigh

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She didn't need to look, although she found herself doing it anyway. She knew what the answer was, it was what it always was. It'd gotten into this mundane routine, this situation where every time she even thought that maybe, possibly it had happened, she was scared to death because she knew that it wasn't true. She got her hopes up momentarily only to have them crushed again - and she knew it.

With a deep breath she looked quickly, and the all too familiar single blue line caught her eye. She paused for a minute, throwing it into the trash and then letting her head fall into her hands. Somewhere inside she knew that the right reaction would be to cry - again. But she couldn't. She didn't have any more tears to spare, and she was almost numb to it at this point. 

She sighed slowly before opening the door to the bathroom, seeing him stand before her as he always did. He was sporting a wonderful case of bed head, his glasses, a pair of boxers and a tee-shirt. This was how it always was - she thought maybe, just possibly it had happened, she'd rush in alone, afraid to let him be there, and she would come out to find him standing with anticipation before her. It was late this time though, usually it was in the morning, or after dinner, but this time it was nearly 2 am.

"Mon," He started and she shrugged gently, crossing her arms across her chest. She didn't speak, but the ironic smile on her face spoke a thousand words. "Honey, sweetie..." He stumbled for words, but like all the times before they were far and few between. He knew how badly she wanted this, how long she had yearned for this, and now he felt as though it was his responsibility to give it to her. But he couldn't. The one thing she'd ever asked of him, the one thing she wanted he was unable to provide - and that in itself left him speechless. 

"I'm tired." She sniffed gently before walking past him into their bedroom.

"Monica, do you want to talk about this?" He followed her as she walked into the bedroom and dropped her robe to the floor. "Mon, we should talk about this." He said after receiving no reply.

"There's nothing to talk about." She proceeded towards the bed and then got in, pulling the blankets up to just under her chin.

"But I think there is. You always say I never want to talk -" He walked slowly to the bed and climbed up next to her. "Honey." He spoke softly as she lay with her back facing him. "Monica, I'm so sorry." He whispered gently as he rubbed her back slowly and then bent down and delicately kissed her cheek. 

Monica said nothing, staring at the walls, every now and again closing her eyes tightly to prevent the tears from falling. She didn't know if she could do it anymore, or if she wanted to do it anymore for that matter. Each time she was filled with some twisted kind of hope, which was quickly followed by an aggravating depression.

Slowly Chandler lay down next to her and wrapped his arms around her, although she was still facing away from him. He covered the back of her neck with kisses as he rubbed her gently.

"Stop." Chandler pulled back immediately as Monica threw the blankets off and then continued to get back out of bed. He sat silently, watching as she grabbed a sweatshirt and pair of his pajama pants and slipped them on. "I need to get out of here."

Her mind went blank, the hurt look on his face was something she was unable to process. She didn't know what to do anymore. What she wanted was something that was beginning to seem near impossible to attain.

"Monica, please don't do this. We can talk about this, or we can..." He swallowed hard, not knowing what else to say. He watched as over the last 8 months she fell apart completely. Her stability, her liveliness, and her hope were all something that he'd missed. Her motions became almost mechanic, and he knew what was always on her mind. And he tried - he prayed for the first time in years, he actually cared about this more than anything, and he really, really wanted nothing more than to give her the only thing she'd ever asked for. 

"I don't want to talk about this." She grabbed the bridge of her nose, stopping for a minute before turning and heading out of the bedroom. 

"Don't leave Mon, honey, please don't leave." He cleared his throat as he followed her out of the room and to the door. "Maybe we need to see a doctor. I'm sure I could ask around and find some specialists."

"I don't want you to ask around." She shook her head, almost embarrassed by the situation.

"Or there's adoption, you know there's -" He realized that he had picked the wrong words only after he'd said them.

"I want *our* baby. I want to - " She broke down completely now, no longer able to avoid the tears as they came at full force.

"Shhh. God Monica, I know, I know." He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head softly. "I know what you want, and I'm sorry, I just...It's going to happen." He spoke softly.

"I'm sorry for putting you through this. I-I..." She paused, releasing a strangled sob, and allowing herself to settle in his arms, taking from them whatever comfort she was able to find.

"Don't be sorry."

"I know you're just doing this because I want it, and just thank you for-"

"No. No, Monica I'm doing this because I want it too. I honestly do." He swore to her. "But, it's just - " Chandler felt her freeze in his arms, and he knew that she was scared of what he was about to say next. "Mon," She didn't change her position, feeling safe in the solace of his arms. "Monica." He stepped back and looked her over. Her eyes were bright red, her cheeks tearstained and her eyes lost their shine, their hope, and in their place was a look of all out desperation. 

"I'm sorry." She repeated again, just soft enough for him to hear. 

Chandler's head fell in unison with his heart, and he took a step back from Monica as he scratched at the back of his neck. "C'mon." The word mixed with a defeated sigh as he grabbed his wife's hand and led her over to the couch in the middle of the apartment.

"Why? Why do we even try anymore?" She stopped just short of the couch, again overwhelmed with the reality she was facing. Their life had begun to revolve around it - Her thoughts depended upon it and it monopolized who she was, what she did, and how she felt. Sex was no longer for the passion, for the love, but rather for the sole purpose of a baby. It had been stripped of everything so sacred and brought down to a monotonous act of procreation. 

Again, Chandler let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes with both hands as he did so. 

"I'm driving you crazy, aren't I?" She didn't even look at him, instead she looked towards the window, out across the dark ally and at the little light coming from Ross and Rachel's apartment.

Emma must have been up.

Chandler followed her gaze until he realized what she was looking at and forced himself to look away. He couldn't take what this was doing to her - to them. All she wanted was a baby - a baby for Christ sake, and attainment of that was seemingly impossible. And it wasn't fair, the long nor the short of it. Monica wanted a baby since forever, and now that they were finally ready they found it near impossible to get pregnant - Rachel and Ross sleep together one night and nine months later they have Emma. 

"You're not driving me crazy." He assured her. 

"Then what, Chandler?" Monica watched as Chandler fidgeted, obviously hiding something. It boggled her mind, really, how he could have wanted a baby so horribly just months ago, but it seemed as though as the months went on he managed to loose all interest. "You said you wanted this, and now you're - "

"I want it Monica, I really, really do. But-"

"But what?!" She cut in, not allowing him to finish.

"Sit down, please." He motioned towards the couch. "Please." He almost whispered.

Monica wiped the last few tears from her eyes, making room for the fresh tears which were bound to fall. Crossing her arms across her chest she walked over and sat down on the couch. Chandler followed, in suit, and instead sat himself across from her on the edge of the light-wood coffee table. 

He cleared his throat as he reach for her hand, interlocking their fingers before bringing her hand to his lips to kiss gently.

"I love you." He smiled sadly. "And to see you like this-" He bit his bottom lip as he shook his head. "-It kills me."

He paused in order to give Monica a chance to talk, but she didn't say anything, so he continued.

"I've known you for almost 12 years, and I know that you've wanted a baby for - like- ever. And from the moment we kissed, from the moment I fell in love with you, I knew that that baby that you'd dreamt about would be **our baby." He watched as Monica started to cry again, fighting her tears for breath.**

Still holding her hand he got up and sat himself next to her, pulling her towards him. "Sweetie, shh." He kissed the top of her head, and with his other hand stroked her hair gently.

"Mon, I knew that you wanted a baby from the beginning, and I wanted, and still want to give you that. We - or I- decided to wait a year until we started trying because when we finally decided to try we were both in a perfect place to start. Our jobs were stable, we could handle a baby financially, and we were together. Together, married, and after a year I felt that our relationship would be strong enough then, and forever to bring children into it."

"What?" Monica cried into his chest, not quite understanding him. Chandler rested his chin atop Monica's head and waited a little while before continuing.

"My parents were divorced, ya know? And it was hell Monica, pure hell. I just wanted to make sure that we were going to be okay - that we were going to make it, and not only make it, but be happy before we brought children into it. I wanted to be sure that we would love them as much as we love each other, and that we would never have to put them in the place I was in."

"Why wouldn't WE work?"

Chandler pulled away and leaned down to kiss Monica's forehead gently.

"We do work. I just - it's a lot, Monica, a family, and I wanted to be sure that from all areas we were covered. And we were, and everything was perfect, so we started." He paused, again bringing her to him. "But now, after almost 7 months we're falling apart. A situation that once would have been amazing for a baby is now questionable. I think, for now, we should stop trying."

He felt Monica stop crying abruptly, but she said nothing.

"We need to calm down. Take a break, refocus on us. Then when things settle down a little we'll start trying again, honey, I promise."

Monica sat perfectly still, not quite sure how she was supposed to react. On one hand, she should be happy that he was so concerned about them – about wanting their marriage to work. But, on the other hand it hurt her, the way he wanted to just dismiss the thing which had practically taken over the previous eight months of their lives.

"I – um," She stammered, unable to take the jumbled thoughts in her head and bring them to words.

"Monica, just think about it, I want this baby, but I also want you." He admitted softly.

"I, uh, Chandler, I understand why you think we should stop, but, I don't understand why you think this has torn us apart." She couldn't coherently bring her thoughts to words, although she tried.

"Oh Monica, c'mon, you can't you see what this is doing? I just want one night, honey, one night when we're together for love, for **us, not for the soul purpose of trying to get pregnant." He spoke honestly.**

"Love? What do you think conceiving a baby is about, huh Chandler? 'Cause I was under the impression that this baby would be conceived by both of us, through **love." She sat back, looking at him as though he was a stranger. "I didn't know that –" She turned away momentarily. "I didn't know that you felt like we weren't together for love."**

"No, Monica," Chandler protested. "That's – that's not what I meant. I love you, and I know that you love me, and we are together because we love one another, it's just that – we need to take a step back, regroup and just have some nights where it's just us, where we make love because we love each other, because we need each other, not just for a baby." Chandler attempted to explain his reasoning, but Monica was still hanging on his previous comment.

"I want a baby, Chandler." She said simply as she got up from the couch, wiping the final stray tears from her eyes.

"So, do I, Mon –"

"You're right." Monica cleared her throat, turning to him sharply. "We do need a break. I just – we need to be apart." 

"Monica, no, honey, wait, please." Chandler followed her to the door, but unlike last time she shot him an ironic smile before leaving their apartment.

------

"Monica, hey." Rachel answered the door to her and Ross' apartment holding a sleeping Emma.

"Hi." Monica cleared her throat as Rachel moved aside.

"Is everything all right? C'mon in." Monica walked in slowly, sitting down on the couch as she looked across the ally into her and Chandler's apartment. A tiny light shone from the living room, and she could see Chandler sitting hunched over on the couch. "Let me put Emma down and I'll be right back." Rachel carried Emma back to the nursery and made sure she was settled before coming back out into the living room to talk to Monica.

"I'm sorry, Rache, I didn't mean to bother you, I just wasn't sure where else to go." Monica apologized as Rachel sat down next to her on the couch.

"Oh, Mon, don't worry about it. I was up with Emma anyway." Rachel assured her. "What happened? Did you guys have a fight?"

"I guess, kind of." Monica shrugged, rubbing her hands over her eyes. "Chandler and I – or well, I, can't get pregnant."

"You guys have been trying? For how long?"

"Long." Monica sighed, again glancing over to her and Chandler's apartment. "Close to eight months."

"Oh, sweetie –" Rachel attempted to comfort her, but Monica stayed to herself and continued talking.

"And he wants to stop. He says that it's breaking us apart, and we need to be together for 'love', not just trying to conceive."

"What? Monica, that's crazy." Rachel wished she could sympathize with her, tell her that she understood, but in all honesty she couldn't. "What did you say?"

"Nothing, or at least nothing meaningful." She paused, running her hands over her face. "How could he have said that? Was he –" She stopped, again her eyes drawn across to the little light in her apartment, and she focused intently on Chandler's silhouette. "I did this, or, I wanted this because I thought that we **both wanted it. And he says that he wants it too, but I can't help but feel like I'm forcing him into it."**

"Well, Mon, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Monica shrugged, "I honestly have no clue what to do anymore. I want a baby, I really do Rache, but I don't want a baby if Chandler doesn't. I don't want it to be a one-sided thing, ya know?" She spoke openly.

"Yeah, honey, I do."

"I think – I think maybe I need to get away." She inhaled deeply as she sat back on the couch.

"Get away? Monica, don't you think you should go back and talk this over with Chandler?" Rachel spoke slowly. She'd never, ever heard Monica want to be away, or get away, especially in relation to Chandler. If anything she'd always wanted to be as close to him as possible.

"I did talk to him. He wants to step back and refocus on us."

"And you think that that's bad?" Rachel questioned.

"Yes. No. I don't know." She shook her head. "This is a lot, Rachel. You don't understand, and I'm not asking you to. I need time to think about it – alone. I need to think about things with Chandler, with a baby, with everything." She said, attempting to swim through the thoughts in her head.

"Well, uh, where do you plan on going, Mon?"

"I was thinking of going up to my parents' beach house, up on Long Island. They're not there this time of year." Rachel cleared her throat, amazed that she had thought it out so perfectly. "I just need to get away. For a couple days. A week, maybe two."

"Well, Mon, if that's what you want, then you should go." Rachel let out a subtle sigh, sadly noticing the red of Monica's eyes and her tear stained cheeks. She knew, maybe more than anyone, how much Monica wanted a baby, and she knew that this whole thing had to be killing her.

"I am." Monica got up, grabbing Emma's little pink bear from the coffee table as she did so. "Kiss Emma for me, okay?" She spoke to Rachel, but her eyes stayed focused on the little toy before her.

"Oh, Mon, honey, I am so, so sorry." Rachel rubbed Monica's back gently, knowing what she was thinking about. "And it's going to happen, I know it is. Just give it some more time. Everything'll work out." Rachel assured her blindly.

"Thanks." They shared a hug before Monica left, heading to her apart to gather her things, to face Chandler one last time, and then head out on her own.

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to be continued.

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© Breigh

July 27, 2002.


	2. Grace Is Gone.

- This part takes place immediately after the last one, so you may want to read that one first.

- The song used is 'Grace is Gone' by the Dave Matthews Band, and is from their newest album, Busted Stuff.

-If you didn't already know, I do not own the characters, I don't own the show. I never have, and most likely never will.

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**Honestly For You: **

_Grace is Gone_

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"Monica." Chandler jumped up quickly as he heard her come into the apartment. "God, Mon, are you okay? Honey, I'm so sorry –"

"Chandler, I'm not staying." She said flatly, not allowing herself to look at him.

"Huh? Monica, why? Where – where are you going?" He felt a lump in his throat – he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to take her into his arms, but in the end all he could do was watch as she quickly packed herself a duffle bag.

"I don't know what to say to you." She spoke honestly. "So I'm not going to say anything." 

"No." He shook his head as he ran his hands back through his hair. "Monica, no." He whispered, practically begging. She couldn't do this to him – to them. She couldn't leave him, he didn't know what he would do if she left him.

"Chandler –" She grabbed the keys to the Porsche from the key ring and then turned quickly to face him. "I just need to be away right now." She explained simply, hoping it would suffice.

"Monica, you can't leave me." He began breathing heavily, feeling as though he couldn't catch his breath. "Please, I'm so sorry, honey," He took a step towards her, reaching for her arm, but she backed away, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Chandler." She said simply, fighting tears as she noticed Chandler's glassy, clouded eyes.

"God, no. Please, honey, let's just talk, you don't need to go. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I swear, Mon. I wasn't thinking."

"You did mean it." She spoke slowly, bringing the harsh reality to words. "We want different things, Chandler. I just need to go, get away for awhile." She intentionally omitted the specifics.

"But you're going to come back, right? You'll be back soon?" He hung his head so that she was unable to see the tears as they slowly fell from his eyes.

"Maybe." She said simply before leaving, not allowing, nor wanting him to change her mind.

Chandler took a step back, quickly realizing what had just happened. She left - Gone, she was gone. She couldn't leave – she wasn't supposed to leave. He shook his head as it began pounding and in an instant his past came back for a very unwanted visit.

She said she'd be back, she said she'd eventually come back, but he had no reason to believe her. Every single person who had walked out on him had never come back – his father, his old friends, old girlfriends, and now Monica. He couldn't loose Monica.

The room began to spin and he placed his hands over his face, surprised to feel the warm, rampant tears.

He was crying. 

No, he wasn't crying – he was sobbing, sobbing harder than he had in a long time. In fact, he couldn't remember crying that hard since he was a little boy. It started within him and he released a gut wrenching, strangled sob.

She was gone.

Gone.

Uncharacteristically he went to the refrigerator in search of some sort of alcohol, beer, liquor, anything at this point - anything to make his head stop pounding and to drown out the realization of what had just happened.

In an instant his sadness converged into anger and he swung the refrigerator door open, but found nothing he was looking for.

"Looks like I'm going out." He mumbled to himself before grabbing his jacket and key and heading out the door.

------

I could never love again 

so much as I love you  
Where you end where I 

begin is like a river going through  
Take my eyes take my heart 

I need them no more  
If never again they fall upon 

the one I so adore 

------

Monica fumbled with the keys before finally finding the right one and managing to unlock the door to the old, weathered house on the northern shore of Long Island. It was a sharp contrast to the large, busy city, and it gave her some sort of eerie solace.

She walked in quickly, closing and locking the door behind her as she threw her bag to the side and made her way into the kitchen, hoping that there may be something to eat.

Upon raiding the refrigerator she found a bottle of water, and in the cabinet was a bag of pretzels.

"I guess I'll need to do some shopping." She said to herself as she headed into the little living room and turned on the TV before plopping down on the couch.

She'd thought so much on the ride up that she'd assumed her brain had practically shut down at this point. Her emotions were completely out or whack, she was frustrated, with herself and Chandler, and with the infertility factor. 

Chandler had been her best friend for years – she couldn't remember a time without him, and didn't even want to try. He'd been there through everything, and the fact that he wanted to back away when she needed him most killed her. Maybe she should have stayed and talked about it like any normal adults would do, but she needed to get away. She couldn't stay there, in that apartment where everything did and didn't happen. 

She needed a break. A break from the city, a break from Chandler, and as much as she hated to admit it a break from the whole 'baby' idea, because slowly it started to register – slowly she began to realize that that's all a baby would be, an idea. 

She felt the threat of new tears as she placed a hand on her empty stomach, thinking momentarily before shaking her head. She couldn't do it anymore, but there was no way she could turn the tears away as they began spilling down her cheeks.

In an attempt to clear her mind she turned on the TV, but within a few minutes she had cried herself to sleep, lost in the nightmare her life was becoming.

------

"Give me another one." Chandler waved his hand at the large, burley man behind the bar.

"Uh, I don't know buddy, I think you've reached your limit." The bartender attempted to warn him, but Chandler wouldn't hear of it.

It was helping, in some twisted, tangled way he was able to drown out the previous events of the evening with alcohol, which surprised even himself as he'd never once went to a bar for the sole purpose of getting drunk and forgetting everything. He'd never thought he was that pitiful.

Until tonight.

"I'm not driving. I live around the corner." He cleared his throat, hanging his head and scratching at the back of his neck. He didn't even know that this little place existed until he went looking for it.

It sat just around the corner from their apartment, it was some old little bar tucked between a Laundromat and a dinner. The walls were dark, and the floor worn and tattered. It was called Moe's, or Joe's, or something to that effect. It didn't matter at the moment – they served alcohol, the hard kind which burnt all the way down and was able to swallow his thoughts.

In a weird way he was beginning to like it there. He'd have to come more often.

"One more." The bartender said as he placed a small clear glass filled with a dark liquid before him.

"Fine." Chandler grabbed the little glass, "One more." He downed it quickly and then sat the glass back on the table. "Thanks." He thanked him and turned away, showing no sign that he would be leaving in the near future.

There was no one else in the place except for an older man at the opposite end of the bar and another man in a booth somewhere in the back.

"Hey buddy, you okay? We don't normally get people like you in here." The bartender questioned.

"What do you mean, _my kind?" Chandler questioned._

"You look like a pretty okay guy. And you're married." He explained, nodding towards Chandler's ring finger.

Chandler nodded slowly, suddenly aware of the gold wedding band on his finger, and almost out of habit he began to twist it. His heart ached, suddenly realizing that the alcohol had done nothing more than give him a pleasant blur, and most likely a hang over come morning.

"Uh, yeah. I'm married." He turned away again, not even half believing what was going on. He was in a bar, attempting to get himself drunk to block out Monica, to block out their fight and their frivolous attempts at having a baby.

The bartender softened, seeing he'd hit a sensitive subject as he poured Chandler another drink and set it before him.

"Here ya go man, this one's on the house." Chandler looked up at him, and then down at the little drink, suddenly feeling out of place and ashamed.

"Uh, no." Chandler got up from the bar, surprised that he was able to stand, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out four ten dollar bills. "I have to go." He shook his head and placed the money on the top of the bar before leaving.

------

Excuse me please one more drink  
Could make it strong cause I don't need to think   
She broke my heart my Grace is gone  
One more drink and I'll move on

------

"Emma, Emma Bo Bemma, Bananna Fanna Fo Femma me mi mo Memma – Emma." Chandler sang loudly to Emma, who sat on her blanket in the middle of his and Monica's apartment. Rachel had brought her over for a little bit to see Chandler. "Hey, you like that? Huh girlie? Do you like it when Uncle Chandler sings to you?" Chandler asked as Emma laughed, reaching out to Chandler with her chubby little hands. "C'mere you." He laughed for what felt like the first time in years as he picked Emma up, raising her above his head.

"Emma, who's got you?" Rachel walked out of the bathroom to find Chandler running around with her giggling nine month old daughter.

Emma said nothing, but continued laughing before Chandler brought her down, holding her in his arms and placing a soft, gentle kiss on the top of her dark, brown, wispy locks.

Rachel watched Chandler play with Emma for a little longer before glancing around at the apartment. It was immaculate, exactly the way Monica would have kept it if she was still there. With a deep sigh Rachel made her way to the couch, knowing that Chandler was falling apart inside.

It had been nearly two weeks since Monica had left, and he still hadn't heard from her – no phone calls, no message, no nothing. Hell, he didn't even know where she was staying.

"God Rache, she's getting so big." Chandler commented as he sat on the ground with Emma and watched her play with her toys.

"Yeah, but I heard that they tend to do that, so I'm not too worried." She joked.

Chandler smiled weakly, not quite sure if he should ask the questions which flooded his mind. "Uh, Rachel?"

"Yeah sweetie?" Rachel sat back hesitantly, knowing what was coming.

"You haven't heard from her, have you?" He spoke softly, clearing his throat when he finished. "I mean, has she called you? I don't need to know what she said, just – I just wanna know that she's okay." 

"Oh, honey." Rachel got up off the couch and sat next to Chandler. Internally she fought with herself, not knowing whether or not to tell Chandler that Monica had indeed called, or to keep it quiet to protect Monica.

Chandler shook his head and turned away, grabbing the bridge of his nose as he felt the threat of tears. "She hasn't called me." He spoke slowly. "I really screwed this up, Rachel. I miss her so, so much. I just need to know that she's okay, that everything's okay."

"She's okay, Chandler." Rachel stated simply.

Chandler swallowed hard, not knowing what to do. It'd be almost two weeks since she'd left. He hadn't slept, he barely ate, and he'd become this introvert, seeing his friends only in the hall or on the occasion that they'd drop by for a visit. 

"Good." He said, attempting to discreetly wipe away the single tear which had fallen from his eyes.

"Sweetie, she just needs some time. She still loves you, you know that." Rachel rubbed Chandler's back gently.

"I just wish that she'd come home." He confided in Rachel. "I never meant for this to happen. I never thought that this would happen." Chandler paused for a minute, deciding that Monica most likely told Rachel the reason why she'd left so abruptly. "I just thought that we needed a break. I do want the same thing as her, I really do. I want a baby, I want a family, I want everything. I just missed how it used to be. I missed not having to worry about whether or not we were pregnant, or if she'd be okay. I just wanted…" He trailed off, running his hands over his face. 

"I know." Rachel said softly. "Hey Chandler, why don't you Emma and I go out for dinner tonight?" She offered, knowing that he hadn't been out since Monica left.

"Ah, no, Rache, that's okay." He shook his head.

"Um, okay. Then I'll make dinner for us tonight." She smiled gently. "You need to eat something, I need to eat something, and Emma would love to spend more time with her Uncle Chandler."

"If you want to, that'd be nice." He nodded before looking down to Emma. 

"I want to." She assured him before getting up and heading into the kitchen to make something for dinner.

------

she broke my heart

my grace is gone.

------

Monica settled uncomfortably onto the exam table, hating the fact that she'd had to come there in the first place. She hated hospitals, although oddly enough she'd found herself in them quite often.

She wasn't really sure when it'd started, but she'd began to get sick, unable to keep anything down and having spurts of dizziness. On impulse she decided to wait it out, concluding that it was a result of her stress since leaving Chandler, but after about a week it still hadn't faded, so she decided to make an appointment with her doctor.

"Monica, is there any chance you could be pregnant?" The doctor asked, his eyes focused on the chart before him as Monica turned an icy hot and then a burning cold. 

Did he just say pregnant? It hadn't even crossed her mind as a possibility, the test was negative. She wasn't pregnant.

"Um, no. I mean, yes. Or, well, no." She spoke uneasily, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Which one is it? Yes or no?" The doctor asked, seemingly confused.

"My husband and I were trying, but I took a test, and it was negative. So, no." She shook her head no.

"Those things aren't always accurate. I'm going to take a blood test just to be sure." He nodded. "The results won't be in until tomorrow, so for now just take a few Aspirin. We'll decide if you need any type of flu medication after we make sure that you're really not pregnant." He explained, and Monica nodded, not believing that this was happening.

This wasn't how this was supposed to happen, Chandler was supposed to be there at the very least. She felt tears in her eyes and wiped them away, embarrassed that'd she'd began to cry.

She hated this, being away, living on her own, and now the thought of a pregnancy. A baby – she could finally be pregnant, but this wasn't what she'd wanted, nor what she'd imagined. 

If she was pregnant, how could she possibly go home to Chandler? He'd already made it perfectly clear that he didn't want a baby at the present time. With a deep, shaky breath she placed her hand over stomach, silently making a decision. 

If she was pregnant, she wouldn't go home to Chandler – she couldn't.

------

My grace is…Gone.

---

to be continued

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	3. Sweet Up and Down.

- First, I'd like to say thank you all so, so much for reviewing the last two chapters. It means a lot!

-Second, the versus used in this piece are excerpts from 'Sweet Up and Down' by the Dave Matthews Band, from the unreleased Lillywhite Sessions.

- And lastly, the disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own the characters. Never have. Never will. 

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**Honestly For You:**

_Sweet Up and Down_

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She stood sideways in front of the long, slender mirror on the back of the bedroom door. Her shirt was pulled up to just under her chest and her loose, dark grey sweatpants were pulled down under her slightly swelling stomach. 

Biting down on her bottom lip she fought to keep the emotion in as she traced the outline of her abdomen. Taking a deep breath she finally released a hushed, strangled sob before pulling down her shirt, pulling up her pants, and sitting herself on the end of the bed.

12 weeks.

The doctor had called the day after her visit – she was pregnant; Alone, by herself, on her own, and pregnant. She went for an ultra sound to find that she was farther along than she'd originally thought, and now, nearly two weeks later she was reaching the 3 month mark.

She'd thought about it a lot – mostly at night when she found that she couldn't avoid it any longer. At first she was upset in knowing that the whole thing with Chandler was frivolous because the night of their 'fight' she was in fact pregnant. And, when that idea finally drove her crazy she turned to her present dilemma – whether or not to tell Chandler.

Before she'd gotten the conclusive results she intended on _not telling him. After months of trying, and swearing that he wanted a baby he suddenly changed his mind, wanting nothing to do with the idea of starting a family. And, that indecisiveness scared her. Say she did go home, she went back to her apartment in the city, told everything to Chandler, and they played house for a while. But, she didn't think she could ever be secure with him again – she wasn't sure if she could fully trust him. What would she do if and when he decided that he didn't want it anymore – that he was tired of playing 'daddy' and wanted a break?_

She didn't deserve that, and neither did their baby.

But, at the same time her son or daughter did deserve a father. She'd been dreaming about having a baby since she was 12 years old. She dreamt about her, and her son or daughter, as well as her child's father. He'd love – no, make that _adore­ – their child. She had never imaged that she'd ever be in a position like this – especially with Chandler. He'd always been so loving, so caring, and the fact that she was questioning his love for his own child tore her apart._

With a deep sigh she rose from the edge of the bed and headed into the bathroom. Opening up the medical chest above the sink she took out her prenatal vitamins – taking the ones she needed quickly and then walking back out into the bedroom.

She took one last look in the mirror – she was finally pregnant, but she'd never felt so horrible.

------

i believe in love  
but believe it's my heart  
that keeps turning me down  
i believe in love  
i think it's just fine  
on the sweet up and down

------

"Hey." Ross sat himself down on the dark orange, velvet couch next to Chandler, who was looking towards the back of Central Perk, his eyes focused on a younger couple with a baby.

"Uh, hi." Chandler turned away sheepishly, hanging his head and then continuing to scratch at the back of his neck.

"You okay?" Ross asked uneasily as Chandler laughed ironically, shaking his head back and forth.

"I'm great." He sat back, staring blankly ahead.

"Still haven't heard anything?" 

"Have you?" Chandler turned to him quickly. 

"No, or, she calls to talk to Rachel sometimes." Ross nodded, knowing that Chandler was having a hard time keeping it together over the past four weeks.

"Why won't she call me? It's like she doesn't even care." Chandler shook his head and then ran his hands back through his hair.

He'd always thought that he and Monica were in it for the long run. But, suddenly she was gone, and the adjustment was not an easy one. He hadn't pressed Rachel for any information in the beginning, assuming that Monica would be coming home sooner than latter, but as time went on and he still hadn't heard from her he realized that she most likely had lied to him – and was _never coming home. _

"She cares. She just needs space." Ross spoke the consensus of the group – whenever Chandler question Monica everyone always had the same answer 'she needs time'. He wasn't quite sure if that's what they believed, or if that's what they wanted _him to believe._

"And what about me? I don't matter? Our _marriage doesn't matter?" Chandler started to get agitated. _

"Chandler –"

"No, Ross. Why can't she just be an adult? We're married now. She can't just do this." He shook his head, finally bringing his thoughts to words. He'd been too busy with the sadness thing to present any type of anger, but slowly in was beginning to ware on him, and his anger came barreling through. 

"Apparently she can." Ross said simply, not knowing what else to say.

Chandler let out an aggravated sigh and got up quickly from the couch, grabbing his coat before leaving.

------

up and down inside out  
outside in some you lose some  
you win for us all  
up and down we go  
bad times choke us all once or twice  
on the sweet up and down

------

Monica blinked her eyes slowly, her nap interrupted by the persistent ringing of the doorbell. With a heavy yawn she rolled off the couch and made her way to the front door, and upon opening it found Rachel holding a giggly Emma.

"Oh God, Monica." Rachel punctuated her sentence with a sigh. "Honey, I've missed you so much." Holding Emma in one arm she wrapped her other tightly around Monica.

"Uh, hi, Rachel, hi." Monica cleared her throat, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater as she crossed her arms across her chest. "What are you guys doing here?" She asked quizzically as she smiled at Emma.

"We were just out for a drive, and, ya know." She said with a shrug of her shoulders, very well aware of the fact that Monica was not letting her inside.

"A drive?" Monica questioned, and Rachel nodded.

"Ross thought it would be better if we had a car, you know, with Emma. So today we went out for a ride, and here we are." She explained, and Monica glanced out into the driveway to see the brand new white Volkswagen Passat parked behind her Porsche. "Can we come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, c'mon in." Monica stepped back out of the doorway and Rachel and Emma entered. "Are you guys hungry? I don't have much food here, I think I might have a pizza, though. We could put it in the oven." She offered.

"That'd be great." Rachel accepted as Emma squirmed out of her arms and onto the floor.

"So, how's everyone?" Monica asked slowly, feeling somewhat awkward.

"Everyone's doing okay. Joey got a part in some mini-series, so he's happy about that. Phoebe is…well, she's Phoebe. Ross is doing okay, he's busy with the whole mid-term thing." Rachel bent down to Emma and unzipped her little jacket before removing her brightly color hat.

Monica cleared her throat, sensing that Rachel had intentionally left out Chandler, as if she wanted her to ask _specifically about him._

"Uh, what about…"Monica trailed off as she walked into the living room where Rachel was giving Emma some toys to play with.

"He's – he's…" Rachel shrugged her shoulders, not sure what to say or how to say it. "He's not doing too well." She admitted, and watched Monica's face for a reaction, but in a very un-Monica like fashion, there was none.

"Oh." She answered simply with a nod before going over to sit on the couch.

"Monica," Rachel moved from the floor to the chair directly across from Monica. "When are you coming home? You said a few weeks – it's been nearly four. You can't stay up here forever. And Chandler…you need to at least call him. He's falling apart."

Monica swallowed hard, ashamed that she was actually _glad to hear that her husband was suffering._

"He just wants to talk to you, Mon. The least you could do is call." Rachel pressed.

"I know. I should." She nodded slowly. "But I don't know what to say to him, Rache. It feels like we both want two completely different things. He'd always told me one thing, and now he wants the complete opposite. I don't know how to handle that."

"Monica, c'mon." Rachel shook her head, somewhat impartial to Chandler. "You're blowing this thing way out of proportion. He didn't say that he changed his mind about kids, or anything else, he just wanted to take a step back – he still wants children, he just thought that it would be better for both of you if you both put it on hold." She paused for a minute, noticing the far of look in Monica's eyes. "And I understand that that was hard for you to hear, but honestly, he thought that it would be best for _you. He hated seeing you so upset."_

"Rachel, stop making excuses for him." Monica stopped her.

"I'm not making excuses, Monica. What is being away for so long accomplishing?" Rachel questioned.

Monica sat back, looking at down at Emma and then indiscreetly placing a hand atop her stomach while going over Rachel's question in her head. Maybe her ideas about the whole thing were worse than the reality. She should talk to him, if nothing else a phone call could do them both some good. The baby would be a detail she'd deliberately omit – in the beginning anyway. 

"I don't know." Monica said honestly. "I thought I knew at first." Monica chocked away her tears. "I do miss him though." She regretfully admitted her weakness to Rachel.

"Honey, you need to call him, or come home and see him." Rachel attempted to persuade her.

Monica turned away, suddenly overwhelmed by the whole thing. She'd left nearly four weeks ago, but just now it was beginning to sink in. She wasn't dating anymore, this wasn't merely a relationship, it was a marriage. And, as much as she hated Chandler for what he'd said, she wanted to maybe talk to him once more, just to see where he still stood. The only thing that bothered her was that he'd change his opinion on the whole thing just to pacify her and convince her to come home. She wanted his answer to be genuine and feared that it would not be. 

"I can't see him, I think I'd rather call him first, ya know?" Rachel nodded, silently understanding.

"Ma!" Emma called up to Rachel, holding up a little band aid.

"Oh, Emma." Rachel took the band aid from her daughter and then looked towards Monica. "Hey Mon, do you have any band aids? I forgot them at home, and Emma scratched her hand earlier." Rachel explained.

"Yeah, they're in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom." 

"Thanks, can you keep an eye on her for a minute?" Rachel didn't wait for an answer before running off to the bathroom.

"Hey there Emma." Monica said sweetly as she sat down on the floor next to her niece. "How've you been sweetheart? Hm?" Monica picked her up and placed her on her lap before kissing her forehead gently. "What do you think I should do, huh Em?" For a moment Monica found herself envying her 9 month old niece – envying how uncomplicated her world was, wishing that she could still see things as purely and unaffected as Emma did. 

"Um, hey, Mon…" Rachel came back out from the bathroom, in one hand was a band aid and in the other a translucent, orange pill bottle.

"Yeah?" Monica looked up, her breath catching in her throat as she saw what Rachel was holding.

"These, or, they fell out of the cabinet." She paused for a minute, shaking her head in disbelief. "Monica, are you…" She trailed off, nodding towards Monica's stomach.

"Yes." Monica said quietly, lowering her head. "Almost 12 weeks."

"12 weeks? Monica, that means that when you two had the fight, you were already…" Rachel concluded, putting two and two together.

"Uh-huh." Monica nodded.

"Does Chandler know?" She already knew the answer, but found herself asking anyway.

"No." She paused momentarily. "And I'm not telling him – or, I'm not telling him yet."

"What? Monica, you can't keep this from him. He's going to see you, or hear about it."

"He wanted to work on us, he didn't want a baby _then." She spoke aimlessly. "And now here it is, and I'm so scared that he's not going to want the baby." She shook her head, placing her hands over her face as she cried freely. _

"Oh, Monica." Rachel brought Monica in for a hug, not quite believing that this was happening.

------

i believe in love  
but said nothing about it  
when you're not around  
i believe in love  
i think you're just fine  
on the sweet up and down

------

He took a deep yawn, glancing over at the clock. 2:31 am. He grabbed the bridge of his nose, feeling as though his chest was constricting, and as he buried his head in a pillow he regretfully allowed a few tears to fall.

During the day was bad enough, but there was something about the daylight which eased the pain as much as it possibly could. There were little things he missed during the day, things he never really thought meant anything until they were gone. She used to call him at work during her lunch break just to see how things were going, or when he'd come home and she'd be smiling for no reason.

God he missed her smile.

And then when the day finally retreated and night took its place, that's when everything _really hit. He ate by himself most nights, and then would watch TV before going to bed. And although he __went to bed, he rarely slept. As the weeks past her spot grew colder and her scent weaker. It was that he couldn't hold her, kiss her, tell her loved her that got to him the most. During the day he could play it off as anger, dismiss it as annoyance, but at night, when everything was said and done and he lay down to sleep he could do nothing to prevent the sadness from engulfing him._

The loud, unexpected ringing of the phone broke his thoughts as he jumped quickly out of bed and ran towards the living room. He picked up the phone quickly.

"H-Hello?" He silently anticipated the voice on the other end, praying that it would be _her._

She took a deep breath, not expecting him to answer. After thinking it over she decided to call, but not until late, assuming that he wouldn't answer and she could get away with simply leaving a message.

"Hi." He said meekly, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Monica, oh god, Monica." He let out a sigh of relief. "Honey, I'm so sorry, I can't do this, please, baby, please just come home. We can work through this, we can. Mon, I need you to come home, sweetie, please." He begged quickly, not knowing if and when she would hang up.

"Chandler –"

"No, Mon, tell me where you are, I'll come and see you, or, or we could meet somewhere. I just need to see you, I need to…" He trailed off, feeling the threat of tears.

"I don't know," She said brokenly. "I don't know what you want, or…" She felt herself falling apart, allowing herself to hear the hurt and longing in his voice as she realized that she had to go home, if nothing else just to see him.

"I want you, and a family, and a future, Monica. I never meant for this to happen – I'd never, ever intentionally hurt you. You know that, honey, don't you? You know that I never meant to hurt you, right? I hate it when you cry, I hate to see you upset, I would never…" He repeated the same thing over and over in an effort to convince her of his motives.

Quickly, almost instantly Monica made a decision, she'd come home - for them, but not until they'd settled back in, not until she found in him the trust she'd unfortunately lost, would she tell him about the baby.

"I'll be home tomorrow." She said simply, releasing a quiet sob as she heard Chandler do the same.

"I love you, Monica. I'm so, so sorry, and I love you." 

"I'll see you later." She said through her tears before hanging up the phone. She stood for a minute, staring at the little black portable before shaking her head. "I love you too, Chandler." She spoke quietly while attempting to quell the fact that the life they knew was over and a new one was about to begin.

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I believe in love, I think you're just fine.

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© Breigh

August 2, 2002


	4. Somewhere In Between.

- Again, thanks to everyone who's reviewed, emailed me, whatever, you guys are all amazing. Thank you so, so much.

- The song used is 'Somewhere In Between' by Lifehouse, and is from their album No Name Face.

- Lastly, just incase it still needs to be said: I do not own the characters, I'm just merely borrowing them for a little bit.

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**Honestly For You:**

_Somewhere In Between_

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The rain intently hit the roof, creating little pitter patters before streaming silently down the translucent glass of the window, while the trees were being blown and bent, and the thick hail crashed into the house like tiny bullets. In a twisted way the weather outside was the tangible of her internal emotions. 

The uncertainty of it bothered her, and for the first time since knowing Chandler she questioned both him and his motives. She was in an awkward place, the place between loving him and hating him, and while she strove to be strong and independent she found herself completely reliant upon him.

She had to go home, for her sanity if nothing else. In the beginning she thought that not talking to him, and attempting to forget about it for a little while was best, but after this long all she wanted to do was see him, and talk to him. She needed to make sure of what he wanted, and prayed that her over analyzation was just that – her taking his words and making them into something which they were not. 

She inhaled deeply, glancing over at the clock as she gently ran her hand over her stomach. It was nearly four am – she'd be with him that evening, and while she was anticipant, she was scared of the unsteady, uneasy feeling which thinking of being in his presence gave her.

------
    
    I can't keep losing sleep over this, no, I can't
    
    Now I cannot stop pacing
    
    Give me a few hours and I'll have this all sorted out

If my mind would just stop racing

------

He backed up slowly until he rested his back against the door, and with a heavy sigh he slid down, allowing his feet to go out from under him as he surveyed the apartment. It was clean, almost too clean, and it looked as though no one had lived there. 

Taking a deep breath Chandler ran his hands over his face – he hadn't lived there over the past few weeks, rather he'd _existed there. He didn't know what he would do when she finally came home, nor did he think that he was able to think about it anymore. It'd started to ware on him, he'd begun to resent both himself and Monica, and for the first time in a long time he was able to see that he was no longer just himself, he was a husband, he was dependent, and he was head over heels in love._

He wanted Monica there, with him, he wanted to know where she was, why she was there, and when she would be home. He wanted to know that she was okay, and that she was happy. His motives were not to control her, but rather to protect her. He loved her to the point that he was petrified of loosing her – he didn't know what he would ever do if something happened to her, or them for that matter. 

Since he was younger he fought for control of everything, and everyone in his life, although he'd never been able to attain it. He had this indescribable fear of the fleeting love he'd experienced since he was younger, but never had he been so afraid of loosing someone as he was of Monica. As soon as she'd left he realized that he would do anything and everything to fix whatever was wrong and correct any and all of her doubts.

He needed her, for the first time in his life he actually _needed someone. There were people, like his four other friends who he couldn't imagine life without, yet he would be able to live somewhat without them. But, with Monica, he was slowly coming to the realization that he needed her more than she could ever know, and if anything came out of their little 'fight', that was it – he needed her, and he would not and could not let her go._

He only wished it would be that easy to make _her understand._

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'Cause I cannot stand still

I can't be this unsturdy

This cannot be happening

This is over my head but underneath my feet

'Cause by tomorrow morning I'll have this thing beat

And everything will be back to the way that it was

I wish that it was just that easy

------

"So…" Joey began a conversation aimlessly, not liking the silent space between them.

"So." Chandler said simply as he sat himself down on the window seat and looked out the large glass window.

"Do you have anything planned for tonight?" He asked gently, testing the waters as he searched the cabinet for a bag of chips. 

"I'm going to play it by ear. Take it as it comes. Whatever she wants to do, we'll do. Whatever she wants to talk about we'll talk about." Chandler shrugged as Joey found a bag of chips and shoved a handful into his mouth. "I just want to see her. She needs to come home." He said, placing his head against the window as Joey sat himself down in the chair, facing the opposite direction from Chandler. 

"Are you guys gonna, you know…" Joey trailed off and Chandler let out a frustrated sigh. Since Monica had been gone it seemed as though no one would finish their thoughts, everyone worded things gently and asked delicately as if they were scared he would break.

"No. I don't know." He said abruptly. "Are we going to what?" Chandler could sense that Joey was uncomfortable.

"A baby." He said simply, cursing himself as soon as the words escaped his mouth.

"Oh." Chandler paused for a minute, running his hands over his face. "That." He spoke through his hands as they covered his mouth.

"Have you, you know, changed your mind about it?" Joey spoke slowly. 

"I've always had the same thoughts about it. I want kids, I just thought that it was beginning to get to be too much." He paused for a minute, shaking his head. "I don't know. We need to get through all of that stuff." He gave no definitive answer.

"You guys are going to be okay, Chandler." Joey tried to convince him. "You're Monica and Chandler, Chandler and Monica. You have to be okay. You'll be okay." Joey finished and realized that he was convincing himself just as much as Chandler.

"Yeah, well." Chandler punctuated his incomplete thought with a deep sigh. "I just want to get through tonight."

------

'Cause I'm waiting for tonight

Then waiting for tomorrow

And I'm somewhere in between

What is real and just a dream...   

------

With her duffle bag slung awkwardly over her shoulder she looked aimlessly up the stairs, wondering if she could actually find it in her to make her way to the top without backing out - If anything denial and ignorance was a hell of a lot easier than facing it.

Sighing deeply as she began to ascend the stairs, silently praying that she would meet no one along the way. Once she reached the last few steps she hesitated momentarily, feeling as she began to shake.

"Monica, calm down." She spoke quietly to herself, sensing that she was about to loose it. She was so close, but found it so hard to go any farther. It hit her, in an odd, awkward way it scared her – she'd never felt anything but safe and comfortable around Chandler, and now she was apprehensive just _thinking about him being so close._

Finding whatever worn out, tired, lost and hopeless strength she had left she climbed the last of the steps and then rounded the corner before seeing their apartment before her. She stopped, feeling something rush over her as she sat down on the little step at the beginning of the hall. Placing her bag next to her she pulled her knees in close to her before placing her head in her hands.

If she loved him so much, why was coming home this hard? She should just go in and talk to him, because she knew that the words she put in his mouth were most likely much worse than what he would actually say. For the first time in their relationship she was filled with doubt, and while she wanted to walk in and fix everything right there and then she had a feeling that it would not be that easy.

And now, she was not only fixing things for herself, and her marriage, but also for her child. She hated the nagging feeling that Chandler may not want the baby, she detested the uncertainty which the situation provided.

She wasn't quite sure how long she was sitting there, but when she raised her head again her eyes were burning and red, and her cheeks stained with tears. Slowly she got up, knowing that she could not sit there all night. 

Before knocking on the door she paused for a moment, forcing herself to gain as much composure as possible as she wiped the stray tears from her eyes. She knocked quickly, and quietly, as though she wasn't quite sure she wanted to do so.

Within seconds she heard the lock click and the door open to reveal Chandler. He shoved his hands in his pockets to resist grabbing her, just incase she was still apprehensive, and smiled widely.

"M-Monica." He stumbled over her name.

"Hi." She lowered her head, and the awkwardness between them was overpowering.

"Um, here, give me your bag, and come inside." He reached for her bag and stepped aside as she walked past him into the apartment. Monica entered slowly, taken back at how everything was still perfectly in place from when she'd left. "You, uh, you look beautiful." He fumbled for words, not knowing what and what not to say.

"Thank you." She turned away, seeing him looking intently at her tear stained cheeks and raw, red, eyes.

"I'm so glad that you're home. It hasn't been the same without you, I hated being here." He shook his head as he took her bag back to the bedroom, and she could sense that he was scared she would leave again.

"I hated not being here." She said after a few minutes contemplation.

"You should have come home." He stood in the doorway of their bedroom, leaning up against the frame as he hung his head, staring intently at the invisible spot on the floor.

"Yeah, well, here I am." She sighed, taken aback by the whole thing. There was a resolution, somewhere – somewhere within the hidden glances, awkward silence and overwhelming sorrow. 

"I know." Chandler cleared his throat. "Are you hungry? I could –"

"I'm fine." She shook her head, amazed at how uncomfortable she was in her own skin.

"Oh." He said simply. "So." He began, but upon the realization that he had nothing worthy to say he stopped.

"So." She repeated, crossing her arms across her chest.

"We, uh, or, we need to talk, I think." He finished quickly, wanting the words to be out so that she could do with them what she chose.

"Okay." She nodded in agreement.

"Monica, I never meant to hurt you, honey, you – or, you're my entire life. You're my everything." He shook his head, turning away. "I want to get through this, I would never have said anything if I knew that we were going to get _into this."_

"Why did you say it though? You knew how much I wanted this, and you went along with it for so long – why now, huh Chandler? Why after so long did you decide against it? I mean, what if, or, what if I was pregnant already? What would you do then?" She said in one breath, shocked at the inner strength she'd blindly found.

"I want this, I want you. I want a baby. I in no way was insinuating that I didn't want children – that's the last thing I meant for it to sound like. It's just a little overwhelming, I think." He concluded. "I'm so used to it just being me, and then you came along, and it was me and you. And I was just beginning to handle that, and then I felt like I was loosing it, ya know? I'm a control freak, I think." He shook his head, somewhat ashamed. "I felt like I was loosing you. I didn't want to blame it on myself so I blamed it on trying to get pregnant." 

"What? Loosing me?" Monica asked, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I've lost every good thing in my life." He placed his hands over his face. "I just figured I was going to loose you too, and I wanted to try to fix it, but instead I think I've made it worse."

"You're not loosing me, or at least you weren't loosing me." 

Chandler felt his stomach flop at her words, _'you weren't loosing me'. Weren't. Were not. Past tense. _

Slowly Monica made her way over to the couch and sat down as Chandler slid to the floor and backed himself up to the door frame.

"You need to believe me. You _have to trust me." He rubbed the back of his neck._

"I always believed you. You were always the first, and only person I trusted _and believed." Chandler sighed, again she used the __past tense._

"But…" He continued for her.

"But to have you tell me that, to have you make it seem like you were going along with everything I wanted just because you were scared to say something – to think that I would bring a child into this world who's father didn't love him or her as much as I do…" Chandler bit his bottom lip at the thought while Monica stressed over the reality.

"If you were pregnant, then I'd be happy, I want to be a father. I want us to be parents. I just want everything to be perfect." He spoke slowly, hesitantly. 

"Nothing's ever perfect." Monica spoke softly, staring straight ahead.

"We were." Chandler said shortly.

"No we weren't." Monica shook her head, and Chandler laughed ironically, caught off-guard by her bitterness.

"Oh." Was all that he could say. 

"It's not about a baby." She began to explain. "It's about you leading me to believe something that was completely the opposite of what you both wanted and believed. If you were honest from the beginning, if in all those times I'd ask if things were okay you would have said something, then it would have been a completely different story." Monica paused, but not long enough to say anything, which was fine with him because at this point he had no clue what to say. "But you waited. You waited and convinced me that this is what you wanted –"

"It is what I wanted!" Chandler spoke loudly, beginning to get agitated. "What about this don't you understand, Mon? I just wanted to take a break and work on us, we were struggling, or didn't you notice? I just wanted to not worry about it, that doesn't mean that I wanted to change my, or our, entire future. I want a baby. I want a family – I want the freakin' house in the suburbs with the dog and the big back yard." He sighed in defeat. "And, who are you to judge me, to say what I do and don't want, huh? By staying away you've turned this into something it should never have been!" He began to explode as he got up quickly and turned to face her.

"Oh, so I should have stayed here? Stayed and listen to you make up lies and all your other shit? I should have stayed so that everything would be 'perfect' for Chandler." She paused to catch her breath. "Well forgive me." She said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes.

"You didn't have to leave. You could have stayed the night with Rachel or something. But you chose to pack up and leave. You _left me Monica, and I'm supposed to sit here and listen to how horrible I am? At least I want to fix this." He took a step back, slowly realizing what she was doing. "Do you…Or – are you, do you not want to fix this? Mon?" She said nothing, turning away and covering her face with her hands as she released a strangled sob. "Monica?" He spoke her name like a silent prayer._

"I'm afraid…" She trailed off, leaving it at that.

"Oh." Chandler shook his head before falling to the floor, feeling that his legs would no longer support him. He placed his head in his hands, and for the first time in a long time he felt like running – getting away as fast as possible and not allowing himself to look back.

He sighed deeply, looking over at Monica. He couldn't run if he wanted to – he couldn't leave her, he loved her to where he couldn't imagine not being with her. He just wanted it to be over, he wanted _this to be over and he wanted things to get back to normal – whatever that was going to be._

------

Would you catch me if I fall out of what I fell in

Don't be surprised if I collapse down at your feet again

I don't want to run away from this

I know that I just don't need this

------

"I hate it when you cry." Chandler spoke first after their long, silent battle. "I always have." 

"Yeah, well." She said blankly, not quite sure if she wanted to warm up to the situation. 

"You're not going to leave, are you? I mean, like, for good…" He trailed off, not even wanting to think it let alone speak it.

Monica said nothing for what seemed like an eternity, while inside she cried for him, for how scared and awkward he was.

"Monica, please, I'm sorry." He practically begged.

"We're going to have to try." She said, making it seem like he was an obligation.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything." He said, again beginning to get upset.

"We're married." She said simply, letting it serve as her answer.

"Yeah." He scoffed. "You're married to a lying, untrustworthy, unbelievable, bastard." He said blankly.

Monica said nothing, not knowing exactly what to say, if anything. "You're not a bastard." She finally spoke.

"Oh, well thanks." He rolled his eyes. "You know, this is the stupidest thing that's ever 'broken' up a marriage." He cringed, knowing that the whole thing stemmed from Monica's overreaction and misunderstanding.

"It didn't break up our marriage." She cleared her throat. "We just need to…" Monica wasn't sure where she was going with their conversation. "Take it slow, okay?" She finally finished.

She had two options: one, she could leave, run as fast as humanly possible and never look back. She could loose both the best love and friendship she'd ever acquired, but keep her pride. Or, two, she could forfeit her pride, and her waked out, blown out of proportion version of everything and settle down with Chandler.

"What?" Chandler got up and slowly, hesitantly walking over to her and sitting down on the edge of the couch.

"If we're going to do this, then we need to do it slowly. No rushing back into anything. No assuming, or lying, we need to talk more and we need to make sure we're on the same page." Monica hesitated. "We need to get our bearings back, get re-collected and back on our feet."

"Take each day as it comes." Chandler nodded. "I'm sorry." He spoke honestly. "I love you, and I'm so sorry." He didn't know what else to say. Their short little scat had been so tiring, and draining, and all he wanted to do now was hold her. All he wanted was for things to get back to how they were.

"Love you too." She smiled sadly as he pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head sweetly.

"Baby, I missed you so much. You have to promise that you'll never do that to me again, please."

"I promise." She said slowly as they parted. 

It was a beginnings end, if nothing else, but what scared her the most was the baby she was carrying. She'd crossed one hurtle only to be stuck behind another, but, like Chandler said, they'd take it one day at a time, and hopefully, before long she'd be able to sit down and talk to him about it. But, for now, for tonight they were going to start from the beginning, they were going to restart and rebuild, because like Joey had said, they were Monica and Chandler, Chandler and Monica, and they _had to be okay._

------

'Cause I cannot stand still

I can't be this unsturdy

This cannot be happening

'Cause I'm waiting for tonight

Then waiting for tomorrow

And I'm somewhere in between

What is real and just a dream

---

To be continued.

---


	5. Days Go By.

- Thank you all so, so, so, so much for the feedback on the last chapter. You guys all rock! And it means so much!

- The song used is 'Days Go By' by Duncan Sheik from his self-titled album.

- Mandatory Disclaimer: I own no one. 

------

**Honestly For You:**

Days Go By.

------

"Hey." Chandler spoke slowly, softly, as he rolled over to find Monica staring aimlessly up towards the ceiling.

"Hi." She said simply, smiling to convince him that she was okay.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, knowing that something was, and had been on her mind since she'd come home nearly two weeks ago.

"Nothing." She shook her head while she indiscreetly loosened the tie on her pajama pants.

Chandler was still oblivious to her pregnancy, but, she was all to well aware of the fact that he couldn't remain that way for long. Her stomach was growing rapidly as she now entered her 15th week. 

Their relationship had survived over the previous weeks, they took whatever love and comfort the other would give, and slowly took each day as it came. She'd come to the conclusion that she needed to rediscover her own comfort in their relationship before she added the baby factor. But, as the weeks continued to pass she knew that eventually she would have to tell him. Her sudden, newfound, fear was that he would find out on his own, and she dreaded his reaction to both her and the baby if he found out in that fashion.

"What about being open and talking?" Chandler laid his arm across her stomach, and she moved quickly to her side so that he could not and would not feel her swelling stomach.

"What about it? We've been talking." She both posed and answered the question.

"I know. I just – or, well, never mind." Chandler shook his head. "Do you have work today?" He sat up slowly, running his hands over his face before letting out a stifled yawn.

"Yeah." Monica answered as she rolled out of bed and made her way over to their closet in an attempt to find something to wear. 

"Oh. Okay, well do you have any plans for this evening?" Chandler had grown to hate how he was still not accustomed to her new schedules. Before he'd always known what she was doing, where she was going, but now he found himself having to ask her for and about everything.

"No. Why?"

"I wanted to see if you'd want to go out to dinner." He smiled sheepishly. Things were slowly but surely finding their way back to an awkward normalcy, and he needed a romantic, gentle evening alone with her. He needed to allow himself to settle back into their relationship – back into _her._

"Like a date?" She asked skeptically, instantly perking up at the thought. She was too stubborn to admit it, but she'd been hoping he'd want to go out and do something – just the two of them, like they used to do.

"Yeah. Sure." He shrugged as he got up off the bed and walked over to her. "You can put on a nice little dress," He began softly, tucking a loose strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear. "I'll but on a nice suit, we'll have a nice, way over priced dinner to go with our way overpriced bottle of wine." He smiled.

"Sounds nice." She agreed, at least his suit and the dinner sounded nice, she'd have to find a way to pass on the wine, and she was sure she didn't have a 'little' dress that would fit her now.

"Really? Great." He asked in a minor state of shock. "I'll make reservations for seven, does that sound okay?" Although they were slowly starting to reacclimatize themselves he still felt the need to ask and check to make sure everything and anything they did and planned was okay.

"Sounds perfect." She affirmed with a nod before heading off to get ready for work.

It may have been ignorant and unwise to be hopeful, and to allow himself to be happy again, but every time he looked at her, and she looked at him he knew that there was nothing else he could do besides love her.

And, while she'd intended on being nothing but distant, she found herself being drawn to do the exact opposite.

------

I know it's not fashionable

To be this hopeful...well laugh away

I didn't think it was possible

To be grateful...anyway

I know it's not sensible

To be this passionate...everyday

------

"Hi." Monica said hurriedly as Rachel opened the door.

"Hey Mon, what's up?" Rachel inquired suspiciously.

"I need a dress." She walked in quickly, and Rachel shut the door behind her.

"Um, okay?"

"Chandler's taking me to dinner."

"Aw, honey that's great!" Rachel smiled brightly, amazed at how much they were both trying so hard to save their relationship.

"Yeah, yeah. Real great. But I don't fit into any of my dresses." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, I fit, but it's really noticeable. I just need something black, do you have anything from when you were pregnant with Emma?"

"Um, I'm not sure. I may have something. Let me check." Rachel walked out of the living room and headed back to her bedroom to go through her closet while Monica walked over and sat herself down on the couch.

After a few moments of intentionally avoiding looking across to her apartment, she finally found herself having to do so. It was an odd, peculiar feeling which filled her as she saw his dark silhouette. She was relieved, in a sense, proud of how they were working through this, happy that it was slowly becoming a thing of the past. Yet, at the same time she couldn't move away from the obstacle she now faced – the baby. She knew how much he was enjoying just them, she saw how happy he was to be simply with her, how much he loved that they were able to take their twisted, tangled web of emotions and their convoluted, intricate feelings and reduce them to their simplest form. There were no ties, no worries, no yelling, fighting, or threat of tears. For the first time in a long time she could sense that he was enjoying it just being _them._

And, the reality of the situation was that it was anything but just _them, although his ideals on the subject made it hard for her to tell him the news of their impending delivery. As the days went by she too enjoyed how much love and attention he showed and gave purely to her. They took each day as it came, sure, yet they lived each day __together, and as far as Chandler knew, honestly._

"All I could find was this." Rachel interrupted Monica's thoughts as she entered the room carrying a black dress with thin straps, which was tighter up top and then flowy before ending at what looked like would be just below the knees.  

"Oh, thanks so much, that'll be great." Monica nodded a thank you as she took the dress from Rachel. "Do you think I could get ready here really quickly? Chandler thinks I just ran over to get a pair of earrings, and if I come back without being dressed…" She explained. 

"Yeah, sure, of course. Go ahead and get ready." Monica ran off quickly, slipping into the dress, which fit perfectly, and then fixing her hair before touching up her make-up.

"Okay, how do I look?" Monica spun around slowly.

"Oh, honey you look beautiful." Rachel smiled, and hesitated momentarily before proceeding to ask her next question. "So, are you, or, do you plan on telling him tonight?" 

"Uh, I don't know. I should." Monica nodded, her head slowly falling. "But he's so happy with just us, and he keeps reinforcing it." She paused for a minute. "I'm going to see what happens, how it goes. Then maybe I'll tell him later." She sighed inwardly, beginning to tire of how her entire life was evolving into 'playing it by ear', it lacked the simple permanence and steady future she'd always considered herself of having. 

"Well, good luck." Rachel didn't know what else to say.

"Thank you." Monica smiled. "I better get going, Chandler's going to wonder where I went. Thanks again, Rache." As Monica left Ross and Rachel's apartment she found herself smiling, finally allowing herself to be anticipant about being with Chandler – finally leaving her reservations behind and settling into the fact that she was no longer retreating, but rather living. She was moving past the issue which had monopolized her life, and she didn't feel guilty about it. She was loosing the despondency and finding comfort in hope.

------

Days go by

I catch myself smile

More than you'd ever expect

It's been a long while

Since it's been o.k.

To feel this way

------

"You look absolutely beautiful." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. 

"Thank you." She blushed.

"Of course." He smiled slowly. "Do you want to get dessert? Or would you rather just go home?"

"Um, actually, it's so nice out, I was thinking maybe we could take a walk." She proposed, and he nodded.

"Sounds perfect." He agreed, and so he paid for their dinner before the two left the restaurant and stepped out into the familiar city.

The city was illuminated by the various buildings which crowded it's streets, and there was an unusual breeze which surrounded them.

"So." Chandler prompted a conversation as he intertwined his fingers with hers and they walked the large city streets.

"Is it bad that I feel guilty about this?" Monica began out of nowhere, brining her jumbled thoughts to some sort of coherent words.

"About what?" Chandler asked, not sure where their conversation was going.

"I feel like I'm settling back in too quickly, like I'm running back to you after I insisted on staying away for so long."

"And that makes you feel guilty?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. Maybe guilty was the wrong word."

"Scared." Chandler said simply.

"Huh?" Monica didn't quite understand.

"It's not a guilty feeling, it's kind of a scary feeling." He admitted, clearing his throat. "I always knew that I loved you, and I mean really loved you." Chandler laughed at the thought. "But, after everything, after all of this, I love you so much that it scares me. And, while we should be taking it slowly, like we said, there's no way I could ever go back to any previous part of our relationship." Chandler wasn't quite sure if he comprehended what he meant, let alone if Monica did.

But, she had, in some odd, twisted way she understood, because she felt the same way. The break did something to them, it made them realize that they weren't with each other because they wanted to be, but rather because they needed to be. They didn't _have to make it, instead their lives depended upon it, and for two people who'd strived on independence, their newfound dependency was deplorable._

"We need to move forward." Monica summed his thoughts up simply.

"Exactly." Chandler nodded. "And I want to move forward, I want the future to be here now. It seems like we've been in this place forever, and going back is…going back isn't right." He finished.

"What are you saying?" Chandler said nothing in response, not sure how she would handle it, so instead they walked the remaining blocks to their apartment in silence, each allowing the other to drown in their own sea of thoughts.

------

In the volumes of history

Have you ever seen anything...so pure

In the wildest mythology

Were the gods and goddesses...ever so in love

In your own experience

Have you ever known tenderness...like this

------

Monica removed her dress, replacing it with a baggy t-shirt and pajama pants before pulling her hair up into a high pony-tail. Slowly she shut the bedroom door in order to look into the mirror on the back. She hesitantly raised her shirt, turning to the side to view her rounded stomach, tracing the outline as tears rolled stubbornly down her soft, fair cheeks.

Keeping this from him was killing her, but she feared telling him would be even worse. The idea of his ramifications drove her to an apprehensive silence. She turned away from the door for a moment, allowing her mind to wander as she looked around the bedroom, seeing pieces of him everywhere, but knowing that the greatest piece of him - of them - was in her.

The door opened slowly and quietly without her knowing, and as she spun back around to look at her figure one last time she was met by an awe-struck, startled Chandler.

"Monica." He spoke slowly through the uncertain lump in his throat.

Monica froze at his voice, it sounded nothing like his own, and his eyes were large, focused intently on her stomach. He said nothing, but his reaction said everything – he knew.

"Chandler, honey,"

"Monica, what…" He stepped back his body boiling as he ran his hands back through his hair. _Was she…She couldn't be…He would know. He was her husband, he'd been sleeping with her, holding her, hugging her, he would know if she was… He thought to himself, yet the word itself never found its way to neither his thoughts nor his lips._

"I'm pregnant. We're having a baby." She blurted out, not knowing what else to say and finding no use in avoiding it.

"P-pregnant. You, we, our, you're pregnant?" He stumbled across his words.

"Almost fifteen weeks." She lowered her head, not wanting to see his reaction.

"Fif-Fifteen weeks?!" He squeaked.

"I was going to tell you,"

"Were you!? It, it's mine, right? God, Monica," He didn't take the time to match up the dates, rather he prayed that she was already pregnant when she left him.

"Yes Chandler, and of course it's yours, who else's would it be?" She wanted to be mad at him, yet she understood his inability to think clearly.

"I – I don't know." He shook his head. "Pregnant." He spoke under his breath.

"I found out about two weeks after I left. I wasn't sure what to do." She began to explain. "You were set on not having a baby, on focusing on us, and then there's this baby." She shrugged. "I didn't want you to find out this way. I was going to tell you tonight, but…" She saw that he was deep in thought, and assumed he wasn't listening.

"God, how didn't I know? I mean, I should have been able to tell, right?" He scolded himself.

"Chandler, no." Monica realized what he was doing. "I was determined for you not to know."

"We're really going to have a baby?" He asked, knowing that he should feel some sort of resentment towards her for keeping it from him for so long, but as he watched her round, swelled stomach all he could do was blink back the tears in his eyes.

"Yeah." Monica nodded, her voice cracking.

"Can, I, uh…" He nodded towards her stomach.

"If you want." Chandler walked towards her slowly and hesitantly placed a hand atop her stomach – upon their child. Child. He had a child, a baby, he was a father.

"Don't be scared." He said after a few minutes of silence. He removed his hand from her stomach and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder while she buried her face in his chest.

"I just want you to want this as much as I do. I want you to be happy, and I know that you've enjoyed it just being us, and this is probably horrible timing –" 

"Shh, no." Chandler cut her off before she could go any further. "This is perfect timing. Everything is just perfect, sweetie." He attempted to convince her. "We're having a baby." He spoke softly. "I'm going to be a Daddy." He chocked back the lump in his throat, but soon he was unable to do it no longer and he let out a soft, joyful sob.

"I love you." She said the words first for the first time in a long time, and inside Chandler felt as everything slowly began to come together. He was okay. They were okay. He was going to be a Daddy, she was going to be a Mommy, and while he was overcome with elation and filled with a stable comfort neither he nor she spoke of the feeling they both shared.

The fear ran deep inside as both felt that while they had resolved so many issues, this was still the calm before the storm.

------

Days go by

I catch myself smile

More than you'd ever expect

It's been a long while

Since it's been o.k.

To feel this way

These are the most precious

Of all my days

---

To be continued.

---


	6. Clouded Eyes.

- Again, I need to thank everyone and anyone who's reviewed so far. You are all awesome! Keep 'em comin'!!

- The song excerpts used are from the 08.04.01 live version of 'Granny' by the Dave Matthews Band.

- As if I need to say it again; I own no one. No. One. I'm simply borrowing the characters.

------

**Honestly For You:**

Clouded Eyes.

---

on our way into the night  
where we find love  
it's hiding there, in the shadows, in the darkness  
maybe, it's up to you and i to bring it, to the light  
love, when i approach, the tears they fall like rain now tell me  
baby, your heart into a thousand pieces dashed

------

It was black, so black that it was practically light. The silence was deafening, and it pierced his ears, filling every inch of him with blind desperation. As he fell to his knees he gasped for air, searching the black for a hint of light, a sense of familiar ness. He found and heard nothing as he fought his clenching lungs for breath, and through the darkness he searched for hope, but was filled with despondency. His eyes began to cloud as his memories ran jumbled through his mind, each fighting to be brought to the light, to be recognized, yet he avoided them all, fighting the havoc for simplicity. 

He needed something to ease his mind, he yearned for something simple, but all he found was a complicated, twisted life. His emotions came to life, becoming tangible around him and he felt as one by one they engulfed him, first the hope, the elation and the joy, and then the sorrow, the desperation, and the doubt.

"Moh-" He fought for breath, searching in the dark for some sign of her. "Monica." He gasped, taking quick, short breaths.

"The baby." He heard a soft, echoing voice as he struggled to get back on his feet.

"The baby." He ran quickly, not sure of where he was going, and less aware of where he would end up. "Monica. The baby. Us. The baby. Us. Monica. Monica. Monica. Us…" He repeated over and over, beads of sweat rolling off his face, clouding his eyes. "Us." He finished simply, collapsing again.

---

"Ah." He sat up quickly, reaching back and rubbing his neck, which ached from a restless sleep on the couch. "A dream. Just a dream." He muttered to himself as he ran his hands over his face.

Things were happening quickly, a little too quickly for his liking, and he found his emotions beginning to fuse together. His immediate reaction to everything was elation, followed by doubt, which caused the guilt to ensue, followed by fear for feeling guilty, and the list went on from there.

He and Monica were, well, they were existing, he knew that much. There were times when they were amazing, and times when he felt like the pawn, she played him how she wanted, used him for what she needed, and put him back when she was finished. Eventually he stopped analyzing things as he found it drove him closer to his breaking point.

He resolved that he was with her, together, and he should be happy for that, but, at night, when he could avoid it no longer he found himself haunted by her words, '_You're my husband. I have to stay.' She'd turned love into an obligation, and while he tried to convince himself that that was not the truth, he couldn't help but feel as though sometimes it was blatantly obvious._

There were times when she'd simply be talking to people, and where she would have introduced him as her husband, or fiancé, or boyfriend, he was instead the father of her baby, picked strictly to fill that role and no other. In times of deepest contemplation and desperation he felt as though she came back not to be a wife, nor a lover, but rather a mother, and she needed him to complete her ideals of the perfect family.

Sighing deeply he rose from the couch, turning off the TV and heading into the spare bedroom, which, over the past 10 weeks, had slowly began to evolve into a nursery. The floor was flooded with wallpaper samples, paint swatches, and various magazine clippings. 

He scolded himself silently as jealousy poured through his veins. He was happy and excited about becoming a father, it was the part about loosing his wife which scared him. Monica focused intently, and solely on the baby. They were something that was set aside, left until the last possible moment, and the distance between them was killing him.

"Chandler?" He heard her voice call softly from the doorway before she continued to yawn.

"Hey. What are you doing up?" He asked coyly as he walked over to her, reaching one arm out to her.

"You weren't there." She cleared her throat as he placed an arm around her and together they walked back into their bedroom. "What were you doing?"

She watched him suspiciously, feeling the doubt and fear radiating from him. She should be used to it by now, but she still found herself surprised when she rolled over and found that he wasn't next to her. She always questioned him, yet he never provided a definite answer.

"Nothing." He gave his normal answer as he shook his head with a feeble smile.

"Just tell me Chandler, please." She practically begged as they both slowly got back into bed.

"It's nothing. Really, honey. I just fell asleep on the couch."

"Why were you in the nursery then?" She asked, searching him for an answer while he searched her for a resolution. He had no doubt that their love was still there, that it still ran deep and pure, but what scared him was that it was being quelled, suppressed, buried. He was loosing her, slowly but surely, his wife was turning into a mother, and he was being pushed aside for if and when she needed him.

"Thinking about the baby." He reached over and turned the light off, silently signaling that that was the end of the conversation. "I love you." He settled in as much as possible.

"Love you too." She smiled weakly through the dark.

------

always wondering what is it lies behind  
the worried eyes of one another

------

She sat on the edge of the bed, allowing her mind to wonder for the first time in weeks as she placed her hands atop her large, rounded stomach. In a way she expected Chandler's behavior - she'd gone from focusing solely on him to concentrating solely on herself and the baby. And, while it could be seen as selfishness, it was intentional, and required for her. Her distance served as a buffer, saving her from the hurt she was already anticipating. 

While she wanted to open up and fully step back into the role of the loving wife, she found herself willingly holding back, contributing her minimum and appearing satisfied. But, she missed him, the way he was usually so happy and adoring, she missed the way he'd whisper nothing into her ear just to see her smile, missed the way he'd do anything to make her laugh. She knew that she was guarded around him, yet she also knew that she was not the only guilty party.

Deep down, beyond the hurt and apprehension she wished that they could just go back to normal, let their guards down and allow the other to trust. But, all the while she was scared of what she would find when she finally allowed herself to fully feel again.

"What time are you off today?" He walked into the bedroom as he fought to fix his tie.

"Four." She looked down at her stomach, and Chandler approached her slowly, placing his hand on her stomach before leaning down and kissing it sweetly.

"Hey baby." He spoke to his son or daughter, smiling to himself afterwards. "I'll pick you up, okay? Don't leave without me." He grinned sheepishly, knowing that she had her doubts about his views and visions on parenthood and their impending delivery. He had his doubts, thousands of them, but he also loved, or make that, adored, their unborn child, and the fact that he was making her question that bothered him.

"Why?" Monica questioned as Chandler leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"That, my dear, is a surprise. You wouldn't want me to ruin the surprise, would you?" 

"No, I guess not." She shook her head no.

"Okay then, I'll be there at four. I've gotta get going. I'll see you later." He bid his goodbyes before leaving for the day.

------

i believe it's love  
it's hiding there  
but we fear the light we shed on  
baby, to let it go, the fear it will be lost  
with love, the sort of thing, funny but, the more you give it,  
baby, the more it comes back to ya, when you're old

------

"Right on time." Monica smiled as she walked through the doors of the kitchen to find Chandler standing before her.

"Hey, I said I'd be here." He shrugged, reaching down and taking her hand in his before leading her out of the restaurant.

"Can you tell me where we're going _now?" She asked eagerly, her anticipation winning her over._

Chandler didn't answer immediately, instead they continued on walking in silence until they approached a small corner shop, which Monica noticed almost instantly.

"Here we are." Chandler opened the door, allowing her to enter before he did.

"God, sweetie, what are we doing here?" Monica looked around the baby store with wide eyes, reaching for Chandler's hand as she did so.

Chandler brought her hand to his lips, kissing it gently.

"I know that you've had your doubts." He spoke her thoughts. "And I just wanted to show you that I'm happy about this and that I'm ready." He hoped to assure her with his actions. "So, I thought maybe you could pick out the paper for the nursery and I could finally get started on it, ya know? Stop procrastinating." He smiled. "And maybe you could pick out a couple of toys or something." He shrugged.

Monica smiled, tears in her eyes at the realization of his gesture, but to Chandler, this, taking her to the store and getting to spend time with her through the baby was all that he felt like he had left. She rarely wanted to do something alone, with just them, and so he opted for the only solution he could find – he decided to show her love, bring her love, and receive love through the baby. It may have been wrong, and he may have been avoiding everything, while allowing her to do the same, but at this point it was all he had.

"Thank you." She kissed his check before dragging him over to a wall of various wallpapers and borders.

"I just want you to know that I'm happy. I'm happy to be a Dad, I'm happy that you're happy, and I just – I know it's been hard." He smiled weakly. "But we'll come out on top, okay?" He kissed her forehead sweetly. "So for now, we should focus on this." He signaled around him, and Monica nodded in agreement.

"Okay." She said simply, and together they searched through the various wallpaper samples, eventually decided on Noah's Ark before picking out a couple of stuffed animals and bedding for the crib, which they already had, and heading home.

------

i say it's love  
it's lacking here, not in volume, just for all  
baby, come on up and bring it, to the light  
love, when I approach, her tears they fall like rain now tell me  
baby, my heart into a thousand pieces

------

"What are you doing?" Monica walked into the kitchen to find Chandler sitting at the table looking at a book.

"Baby names." He smiled, lifting the book up to show her the cover.

"Ah." Monica nodded. "Find anything?"

"No. And I decided that I hate my last name." He shook his head back and forth, laughing along with Monica.

"Why?" Monica sat down next to him.

"I liked Beau." Chandler cleared his throat. "But Beau Bing?" He flung his hands in the air.

"Ew, yeah, definitely not." She shook her head back and forth. "Anything else?"

"Noah. And Hayden. Maybe Caleb, I liked Cal. Aidan is nice too, and Cade is cute." Chandler rattled off the names.

"So I take it you think it's a boy?" She smiled, settling into the conversation, and Chandler smiled along with her, seeing that she was easing into it.

"I think so. I don't really have any girls' names." He shook his head as he flipped through the pages of the book. "Keagan is cute, kinda different. I liked Bella too." He glanced up at her. "What about you?"

"I like Noah, you said that, right?" Chandler nodded. "I like Matthew and Luke too, Aidan is something to keep in mind though, it's different, but not too different."

"Okay, so maybe we could narrow it down to four? Noah, Matthew, Aidan, and Luke." 

"Sounds good." She smiled. "And for a girl I like Isabella, and you said Bella, so…"

"Isabella it is, I think." He smiled sheepishly, not wanting to claim soul rights over the name-choosing-process.

"Isabella it is." Monica repeated as her answer.

Chandler laughed, finally feeling at ease with her. He wanted to hold her, love her, go back to the way things were. Deep down, twisted, tangled and lost he'd managed to find a golden strand of familiarity, and he loved it.

"Hey, what do you say we go out to dinner, huh?" He smiled, reaching for her hand. "We're already almost 7 months along. In another two months we're not going to be able to do anything like this."

Monica hesitated, seeing the hope in his eyes and feeling his silent pressures.

"Uh, I can't." She shook her head no.

"Oh, why?" He attempted not to sound hurt as his anger and frustration began to build.

"I'm going out to the store with Rachel and Emma. I thought maybe I could do some more shopping, I mean, like you said, we've only got a few months left." She explained.

"Hm." Chandler got up from the table. "We just went out today though, wouldn't you like to go out with me tonight, just for a little bit? Or, if you don't want to go out we could order in and maybe watch a movie. We haven't done that in a while." He sighed, knowing he was attempting to cling to straws while drowning.

"Maybe another time."

"Why?" He shot back quickly. "Why do you keep avoiding me? Avoiding us? Why are you suddenly completely absorbed with the baby? Why don't you _care anymore, Monica?"_

"Care? I care, Chandler, I'm just trying to get things ready. I want to do something with you, I just promised Rachel-"

"Yeah sure." He revealed her lie. "Just say it, Monica." His voice rose slowly.

"Stop trying to find something wrong with everything!" Monica shouted back, knowing that her words were barely coherent.

"Whoa, whoa - whoa." Chandler laughed ironically. "_I'm not trying to find fault here, Monica, you are!" Monica got up quickly, unbelieving that this was happening – again. "You're afraid of something, so you're using the baby as an excuse for everything!"_

"Oh no, that's _you. You're avoiding me, and trying to get to me through the baby-"_

"Because that's the only way you'll listen to me! You want nothing to do with us! I'm here to be the father, the daddy, and nothing more. What about us, huh?" He screamed now, unable to hold back.

"I can't believe you!" Monica threw her hands in the air, the tears now streaming intently down her cheeks.

"Why? Why not, Monica? You're the one who said you'd take me back because you had to. I'm an obligation to you, I complete your perfect little family! I'm removable!" He threw his hands in the air as Monica fought her persistent tears for breath.

"What?" Her voice was less than a whisper, suddenly the reality of it all hitting her, suddenly realizing how he felt and realizing the ramifications of her actions.

"If you don't want me, just tell me!" He shouted loudly, kicking a chair from the kitchen table.

"You don't want me!" She screamed through her tears. "You don't notice me! You make up excuses, you distance yourself because of the baby! You don't hold me anymore, you don't hug me, or love me-" She stopped abruptly, bending over and grabbing her stomach while obvious pain fell upon her face.

Chandler took a step back, completely caught off-guard by her actions. "Mon-Monica?" He approached her cautiously.

"Something's wrong." She said meekly, her eyes bright red and her cheeks tear stained.

"What? With the baby, is it the baby?" He ran quickly to the key holder, grabbing the keys before placing an arm around her and helping her out of the apartment, down the steps and to the car. He made sure that she was as well as could be before speeding off to the hospital, his mind racing, his heart falling, and his guilt consuming him.

------

love who would steal the colors from a flower, no it's  
baby the brightest one, the brightest one you see  
love oh all the blue skies now are pickin up they're pickin up  
baby every drop of rain water  
love let the rain come floodin' down upon us all  
  


---

To be continued.

---


	7. Bringer of the Light.

- As always, thank y'all who've reviewed and such. It means a lot, and please keep them coming, as they make my day _so much better!_

- The song used is 'I Wonder' by Chris Isaak.

- Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Friends cast. I do, however, own the baby, doctors, ect. Steal them and I'll be forced to steal you ;) 

------

**Honestly For You:**

Bringer of the Light

------

When I was younger I believed, that dreams came true

Now I wonder

Cause I have seen much more of dark skies, than blue

Now I wonder

------

His head fell back slowly as his shoulders raised simultaneously. He shut his eyes, locking out the cold, unfamiliar waiting room while attempting to silently fight his guilt. It was all a blur now, the evening, the fight, his fucked up, twisted, mangled emotions. He couldn't find the strength in him to care about himself, his feelings, his fears, as all he could concentrate on was the unknown of Monica and the baby. 

"Chandler." He sat up slowly, turning to face his four friends with an awkward, ironic smile.

"Uh, hey guys." The four proceeded silently to where he was sitting, and Chandler rose to greet them.

"How is she?" Ross asked first, seeing the red around Chandler's eyes and blatantly aware of the fact that his eyes were not meeting his own.

"Don't know." Chandler cleared his throat before running his hands back through his hair.

He wanted to know how he was supposed to handle this, he wanted to either grieve or celebrate, he wanted certainty for once, but found no sign of it. His life, his pettiness, what he wanted had been instantly, and tragically thrown into perspective almost one hour ago, and now he just wanted to know what was going on. He was Monica's husband and the child's father, and all he wanted was to know if they were going to be alright.

"Mr. Bing?" Chandler heard a female voice from behind him, and he turned slowly to see a dark haired, medium sized doctor before him.

"That-uh-that's me." He approached her slowly.

"Mr. Bing, I'm Dr. Cohen." She introduced herself.

"How's Monica? Is she okay? And the baby, is the baby alright?" He asked slowly, fighting his hazed state for any type of clear and certain reality. 

"Could you please come with me?" She glanced quickly around the crowded waiting room, and Chandler nodded, obediently following her out of the waiting room and into the hall. "Mr. Bing-"

"Chandler, please." He corrected her, uncomfortable with the formality.

"Okay, Chandler, you're wife was brought in with abdominal pain, and later she began experiencing some mild light-headedness as well as dizziness."

"But is she _okay? Are they both going to be okay?" He stopped her, wanting to skip the in-between stuff and get directly to the point and problem._

"You're wife is in the early stages of labor, and in most cases we would be able to give her the proper medication, place her on bed rest, and hope that she would be able to carry the baby at least another two to three weeks."

"But…" Chandler felt unbelievably uncomfortable in his own skin, and his guilt, grief, and uncertain sorrow combined to form a horrible situation.

"But, Monica's blood pressure is high, too high. She's suffering from what we call preeclampsia."

"Um, okay. Okay, so then what does she need?" Chandler spoke with his hands.

"There's no medicine to treat it-"

"What? What are you talking about no medicine?" He felt as he began to panic, their petty fighting, his miniscule fears and inhibitions suddenly becoming exactly what they were- trivial, and he was embarrassed that it'd taken something like _this to prove that to him. All he could think of now was seeing her – all he wanted was to talk everything out, to come to some sort of resolution and find the certainty, unconditional love, and stability which had been lost._

"The only cure for it is to deliver the baby." She finished her sentence, and Chandler shot back into reality immediately.

"D-deliver the baby? But, she's only 27 weeks, that's too early. Isn't that too early? Will the baby survive? Could the baby be okay?" The questions poured from his mouth after fighting through his mind. 

"The survival rate for baby's born between the 25th and 30th weeks are anywhere between 30 to 40 percent." Chandler's legs began to wobble, but surprisingly he kept himself from faltering. The baby had to be okay, he didn't know what Monica would do, or what he would do if something happened, especially under the circumstances. He needed to get to her, he needed to see her.

------

I keep on praying for a blue sky

I keep on searching through the rain

I keep on thinking of the good times

Will they ever come again?

Now I wonder

Now I wonder

------

"Where's Monica? Does she know?" He stumbled back, leaning against the wall with his hands covering his face.

"Yes, she knows, and I'll take you to see her now if you'd like. We'll be performing a scheduled c-section in about an hour." Although he felt like he should say something, react in some way, he found that he was incapable of doing anything but following the doctor down the hall to the room Monica was in. The doctor opened the door for him, and he entered slowly.

Monica sat perfectly still, her hands over her stomach as if to protect their unborn child, and her eyes bright red. She'd heard him come in, and was intentionally facing in the other direction. Deep down within her she knew she should say something, but all she wanted now was for all of their 'fighting' to be over and for them to finally be together on something. Married, together, and soon parents – and ironically, parents too soon.

"Hi Honey." He cleared his throat, smiling to combat his tears. Monica turned to him hesitantly, blinking back the tears in her eyes before turning away again. The guilt and silence between them spoke volumes, as each remained quiet. 

"Did they tell you?" She broke through their silence as she felt the baby kick gently, and she let out a soft sob. 

This was the scenario she'd intentionally avoided. She was well aware of the fact that their situation had been anything but ideal, but through it all there was always something, always this little light, this nagging at the back of her mind, a reminder that they would still have the baby. In the end they would _have to come together because of the baby. Although she hated to admit it, there were times she felt as though the baby, if nothing else, would finally get them back to normal._

"Yeah, sweetie, yeah, they told me." Chandler buried his hands in his pockets and walked over next to her.

"I'm sorry." She avoided him, instead choosing to stare out the window across the busy nightlife of the city.

"What? Monica, no." Chandler stopped her before she could go any farther. After months of falling apart, all he wanted now was to bring them back together. He searched the regularity for a miracle, hoping that they would be able to mend in such a short time in order to come together for their child. "This is _not your fault, honey. If anything, this is my fault, I shouldn't have said anything-"_

"No, but I knew about-" Chandler laughed, shaking his head as he quieted her.

"This is stupid, isn't it?" He laughed ironically as he took her hand in his and kissed it sweetly. "I mean, honestly, Monica, what are we doing?" He shrugged, pulling a chair up so that he could sit down. "I love you, you know that, don't you? I mean, you're the only person I've ever invested anything in, ya know?" He hung his head, suddenly uncomfortable with their situation, and Monica could sense it. She smiled inwardly, knowing what he meant, and knowing that she felt the same.

"I know what you mean." She assured him. "I do." Her voice dropped.

"Okay then, I say that we start from here, okay? I mean, we need to do this for the baby, and for us." His words were barely coherent, yet they were all he could find. After there had been such distance between them, he was finally finding some sort of solace in their closeness and understanding.

"Okay." She nodded, all too well aware of the fact that they were both leaving behind the past few months for the sake of their baby. Their emotional rollercoaster, their inabilities to re-commit, trust and love completely, and most importantly their doubts were all being put aside for their unborn child. 

------

When I was younger I believed, that I could win

Now I wonder

there was a time when you and I, walked hand in hand

Now I wonder

------

"Okay Monica, you're going to feel a little bit of pressure." The doctor informed her as she made the incision. 

Monica lay perfectly still on the operating table and there was a cover strung up just under her chest so that she could not see what was going on, and Chandler sat in a chair by her head.

"I'm so scared. The baby has to be okay." She spoke quickly and softly as Chandler gently ran his hands through her hair. 

"It's okay. Everything's going to work out." He spoke hesitantly, not wanting to promise anything he couldn't deliver. He'd always liked the fact that he was there to protect her, keep her safe, do what he could and love her through everything, but with this, suddenly everything spun wildly out of control. For him, someone who always had to control everything, his inability to grasp tightly to something stable was killing him. 

Although he and Monica had silently and willingly resolved almost everything he still felt as though he was in the dark, searching for her among the shadows, needing a light to combat his emotions and their situation. 

"Okay Dad, if you look up here you'll see the baby in just a minute." Dr. Cohen spoke to Chandler, who got up just in time to see a tiny, pale little baby held up quickly before given to another doctor and taken to a little area off to the side. "It's a boy."

"A boy? We have a boy? Is he okay? Why isn't he crying? Chandler, is he okay?" Monica spoke quickly, tears in her eyes as Chandler wondered aimlessly over to see his son. His son. He had a son, a little boy, he was a Daddy.

As he saw the little baby he felt his throat begin to constrict as the tears welled up in his eyes. He'd always known their fighting was petty, and that there was so much more, but as he stood there, watching the doctors hook up the various machines and tubes to his baby boy, he realized that there was so much more than pride. He and Monica had been side-stepping so many issues, intentionally avoiding each other, and loosing the relationship which had taken so long to build because each didn't want to loose themselves and their pride to the other. 

"What? Why are you doing that to him? Why," Chandler blinked back tears, "Why does he need that tube?" He questioned frantically, running his hands back through his hair, not quite believing that this was happening. 

"We're taking your son up to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit." One of the doctors turned to Chandler while another quickly wheeled the infant out of the room.

"Can I see him?" Chandler turned to see Monica's cheeks flooded with tears.

"Oh, baby, he's beautiful." Chandler spoke with the intent to comfort her.

"Don't lie to me." She bit down on her bottom lip, and Chandler let his head fall, finally succumbing to tears as the reality of everything hit him all at once.

He'd fought for months to change things between he and Monica. He'd been engulfed by the darkness and strangled by conflicting emotions, but suddenly, in a moment he went from Chandler to Daddy, and the light he'd been searching for had finally been found, and if at all possible he'd do anything to keep that light from fading. 

------

I keep on searching for the old me

I keep on thinking I can change

I keep on hoping for a new day

Will I ever feel the same?

Now I wonder

Oh I wonder

Now I wonder

------

She didn't know what to think, and she doubted that she'd even be able to. In all of her dreams, in her imagination and her anticipation she'd never envisioned something like this. She knew she should feel something, maybe she should cry her eyes out, or maybe she should be strong for her son, but at the moment she was numb to everything.

Monica reached for Chandler's hand, and he helped her to stand up next to their son. His body was small, and his skin pale. The bleek, large white diaper was too big for his tiny frame, and various tubes and monitors, including a tube to help him breath, were everywhere.

"I- I can't do this." Monica shook her head.

"Sweetie, yes you can. We can do this, we have to." He shuddered at the way he'd made his son seem like an obligation.

"He's so tiny." Monica's breath caught in her throat, as she hesitantly ran her hand across his tiny forehead and then back over his little wisps of baby-fine dark, brown hair.

"He's beautiful though, look at him honey, he's amazing." Chandler watched his son in awe before a younger doctor approached them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bing?" He asked lightly.

"I'm Chandler, and this is Monica." Chandler introduced the both of them.

"I'm Dr. Morgan." He glanced down at the baby. "Your son is stable, for now, anyway. He's receiving 70 % oxygen, and we're monitoring his lungs –"

"Is he going to be alright?" Monica didn't want to hear a load of medical jargon, she wanted something she would understand, she wanted it laid out in black and white, but she found herself trapped in an unpleasant blur. 

"We're going to be monitoring him closely. It's too hard to tell at this point. Hopefully he'll be fine." He was well aware of the state they were in, and opted to wait until later to explain everything. "Does your son have a name?"

"Oh, um, no." Chandler spoke after some hesitation before turning to Monica. "No, we haven't talked about that yet." 

"Alright." The doctor nodded. "I'll be back later to talk to you." He said before leaving.

"He doesn't have a name." Monica spoke sadly, the day still a blur, but well aware of the baby before her. After years of dreaming, and imagining it, the accumulation of all those things was right before her. She was a Mommy, she had a baby boy, a beautiful, gorgeous, helpless baby boy. And, while she should be happy, she was plagued with guilt for feeling apprehensive about the whole thing. 

"He changed our lives – or, he's going to." Chandler mumbled, but Monica heard. 

They'd been surrounded by this fog, trapped in the darkness, and somewhere along the way came this little light, this little beacon of hope. They no longer had time to worry about themselves, but rather they needed to put all they had into their son and their relationship. 

"He's the light." Chandler continued to mumble on as he pulled a few sheets of paper out of his pockets – they were the pages of the baby name book which he'd pulled out because they contained the names they'd agreed on. "Luke, from the name Lucas, which means Bringer of the Light." He bent down slowly, kissing his son's tiny little hand.

"Bringer of the Light." Monica whispered. "Hi Luke, baby, I'm your mommy." She sobbed quietly.

"Hey Luke. Hey buddy-bud, I'm your Dad, yeah, I'm your Daddy." Chandler laughed through his tears as he brought Monica to him for a hug.

They were finding their way out of the darkness and into the light, but the uncertainty of their future, along with Luke's was something that would for the moment keep them from moving on. 

"I love you so much." Monica sobbed into Chandler's chest. He swallowed hard and rested his chin atop her head. Luke had to be alright – he simply had to, there was no explanation for it except that. 

"I love you too." He said sweetly through his own tears, yet his eyes were focused on his son – on their light, and inside he was scared to death of the light fading. He was scared to death of adjusting to their new life only to find that they had to revert back to their previous state.

They both turned slowly and watched their tiny baby fight for every breath, and together they left behind everything they'd ever known and stepped quietly into parenthood. They still had things which probably needed figuring out, there still were talks to be had and issues to be decided, but for now they would move that aside and come together for the only thing they had left – Luke.

------

I keep on searching for the old me

I keep on thinking I can change

I keep on hoping for a new day

Will I ever feel the same?

Now I wonder

Oh I wonder

Now I wonder

------

© Breigh

16 August 2002.


	8. Light Lift Me Up.

- Not to sound repetitive, but thanks so much to everyone who reviewed on the last part, you are all amazing!

- The song used is the unreleased song by the Dave Matthews Band, entitled 'Light Lift Me Up'.

-This will be the second to last installment of this series, I've thought about it and decided to finish it up with a short little Epilogue, so hopefully that'll be out soon. 

- Disclaimer: I own Luke. I don't own any of the 'Friends' characters.

------

**Honestly For You:**

Light Lift Me Up

------

oh searching tired of love grown up   
now it all falls out   
oh often dream of a magic prince   
come and swoop you up swoop you up

------

The cool, early morning Manhattan air surrounded her like a blanket as she walked slowly down the long city blocks. Her mind was going at a mile a minute, and every once and a while she was able to coherently find her way through her tangled thoughts. She couldn't feel anything in the beginning, and now she found herself in a place where she wouldn't allow herself to feel.

Their son was the accumulation of everything she'd ever dreamt about, and now that he was here her conflicting guilt and love fought frivolously until she was left surrounded by a monotonous blur. At first everything was so surreal, the reality that she was a mother, that she had a son. But, as the weeks went on and Luke remained in the hospital everything slowly began to sink in. 

Although she'd never admit it aloud, she regretfully found herself holding something back from her relationship with her son. Her anxieties prevented her from being as close to him as she should, because she feared the repercussions of falling so in love with her little boy and then loosing him. The situation was too much of a risk, it was still too uncertain, and while she wanted nothing more than to bond with her son she found herself slowly retreating.

Chandler, on the other hand, had surpassed any expectations she'd previously had. If he wasn't working he was at the hospital, and if he wasn't at the hospital he was working on the nursery or finishing baby-proofing the apartment. He called the hospital every night before he went to bed, and he'd call again as soon as he woke up. He wasn't merely a father, but rather a Daddy.

She wasn't sure if he noticed her apprehension, or if it was just so blatant to her because she was taking such strides to conceal it. She envied Chandler, the way he bonded with Luke, the way the little boy would eye him as soon as he hovered over him. Chandler's relationship, and the way he was able to open up and bond with their son was something she wanted, but wouldn't allow herself to attain.

Finally she reached the doors of the hospital, and her train of thought halted momentarily. She mechanically found her way to the elevator, riding it up to the fifth floor before making her way down to the NICU. She slipped into a paper thing yellow hospital gown before entering to see Chandler sitting in a deep brown rocking chair in the corner holding little Luke gently.

She approached them slowly, hesitantly. Stopping a few feet away she heard Chandler gently whispering to their son as he always did.

"How's your day been, pal?" Luke squirmed in his arms. He'd grown considerably in the passing weeks, now holding out at just under five pounds. He still needed some oxygen from time to time, but for the most part he was able to breath on his own. "That good, huh?" He laughed as Luke blinked slowly, revealing his deep, dark blue eyes as Chandler fixed the various wires so that he could hold him up a little higher.

He watched his son in admiration, unaware of the audience Monica provided. At first he was scared of the dependency he'd placed upon Luke. Since first glance his son had monopolized his thoughts and affected anything and everything he'd done. But, every time he looked at his son he could do nothing besides fall deeper in love with him. He was the tangible accumulation of he and Monica's love, and the fact that he was so beautiful, and so perfect made him the ideal personification of their feelings for each other. Each time he looked at his son he found it harder and harder to remember his life without him, and each time he found himself trying to remember less and less. He didn't want to remember life before his son, he didn't want to remember the fighting, the uncertainty and the turmoil, for he'd grown accustomed to the new tranquility Luke's presence had brought.  He finally had a family, and he would have never imagined it would have felt as remarkable as it did.

"Well bubby," He smiled at the nickname he'd given his son. "I had a long day. But in a few weeks when you come home I'm gonna take a little while off, what do you think of that, huh? We can just pal around." He laughed happily as he removed Luke's little hat to reveal his head-full of baby fine dark brown locks. "You're hair is growing." He laughed quietly as Luke smacked his lips and Chandler wrapped the blanket around him a little tighter. Chandler glanced around slowly, catching a glimpse of who he thought was Monica standing just behind him. "Mon?" He turned his head slowly, acknowledging her.

"Hey." She crossed her arms across her chest and slowly approached her husband and son. She laughed to herself – she had a husband and a son, she had a family. 

"How long have you been here?" He asked quizzically as stood slowly, expecting her to take his seat so that she could hold Luke.

"Not long." She shook her head and stood next to him as she looked down upon her son.

"Hey Luke, look who's here." Chandler smiled, "It's mommy." Monica smiled uncomfortably at the word, still needing to grow accustomed to the fact that she was a mother. "Honey, sit down so you can hold him." Chandler gently advised.

"Oh, no, I'd rather stand." She looked nonchalantly around the NICU, noticing all the adoring mothers holding tightly to their premature infants. Guilt overcame her as she now, more than ever, felt the repercussions of the distance she'd formed between her and her son. He was going to be okay, or at least it appeared that way, and she now found herself trying to cling to anything which would connect her to her baby boy. 

Chandler watched as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she started to cry softly.

"Monica, sweetie, are you okay? He's going to be alright," He paused, seeing no change in Monica's behavior. "Honey, did you hear me? I talked to the doctor, he's doing so much better, and he's gaining weight. As soon as he reaches five pounds we'll be able to take him home-"

"I love him." She spoke through her tears.

"What? Monica, what's going on?" He turned around and gently placed Luke down, and as he turned back around he found that he was alone, and Monica was gone.

------

oh light please, come lift me up   
oh sweet light come lift me up   
when you go down, remember your steps as a baby   
remembering how you walked   
remembering all the sweetest dreamin' you did   
while you tick-tock alone

------

"Chandler." Joey walked out of his apartment to find Chandler slowly making his way around the corner towards his and Monica's apartment.

"Hi." He said gruffly, annoyed by the fact that Monica had obviously been withholding something from him when she'd made it clear that she was no longer going to do so.

"What's wrong? Is it Luke? I thought you said that they said he was going to be okay. He's okay, isn't he?" Joey jumped to the obvious problem, and Chandler shook his head, running his hands back through his hair.

"Luke's great. He's going to be fine." Chandler nodded.

"Oh, good. So then what is it?" Joey placed his hands in his pockets, giving Chandler all his attention.

"I don't know." He paused, letting out a deep sigh. "Or, I think I may know."

After Monica had left he'd sat with Luke, going over the past few weeks of his son's life and noticing one thing through it all, and that was Monica's apprehensive distance. He thought, no he knew, that he chose to ignore her distance apathetically seeing her reasons, but now, as time continued to go on he felt somewhat to blame for not helping her through her anxieties.

"What? Do you wanna talk about it?" Joey asked.

"Ah, no, that's okay." He paused. "You're going out anyway."

"No big deal. C'mon in." Joey overrode Chandler's decision, sensing that he needed to vent.

Chandler followed Joey into the apartment, where he fell back into the deep black leather of Joey's lay-z-boy while Joey sat himself down on one of the bar stools. 

"What's up, man?" Joey prompted the conversation.

"I saw it, or, I kinda saw it, but I just thought she was being 'cautious-Monica'." Chandler muttered, running his hands over his face.

"Saw what? Chandler, what happened?"

"I know that she loves Luke, she's his mother, and he's such an amazing little baby. There's no way she couldn't love him." He spoke slowly, gazing aimlessly over Joey's shoulder. "She's scared, I think. Scared to love him and then loose him." He paused, releasing a defeated sigh. "Whenever I saw something, or thought maybe she was having doubts I pushed it aside. But now, what do I do now? How do I talk to her about it without making her feel guilty – and I'm sure she already feels guilty. She broke down today, muttered something about how much she loved him and then before I knew it she was gone."

"Oh." Joey found himself at a loss for words, not knowing what to and what not to say.

"And, I know that Monica's been waiting to have children for forever, and I don't want to make it seem like she's being a horrible mother, because she's not."

"Is she home?" Joey cleared his throat as Chandler playing with his shirt.

"I think so." He shrugged.

"Then just go over and see where it goes. You guys will work through it, Chandler, you always do." Chandler laughed ironically as he got up from the chair and headed to the door.

"Yeah, that's what's starting to scare me." He mumbled as he left the apartment and headed into his own.

The fact that there was always something, that they cleared one obstacle only to be stuck behind another was beginning to get a little monotonous. He wished, no, he wanted, to finally be in a place of tranquility for as long as humanly possible, and while he'd tackled so many issues in his three year stand with Monica, this was the topic he'd rather avoid, but he was well aware of the fact that this was the one that he could not.

------

and now all gone, there's nothin' left   
but your dream I wrote in a song   
just like the bent back of an old woman   
you know it's all gone and severed alone   
and so I rhyme

------

"Monica?" He called softly as he entered the apartment, seeing no sign of her. He stood just inside the apartment and looked around slowly before noticing that the door to the nursery, which had once been the guest room, and before that Rachel's room, was open slightly a there was a slender ray of light peeking out of the door. "Honey?" He opened the door to find her sitting in the gliding rocker in the corner, her eyes red and her cheeks stained from tears.

"How is he?" She asked softly, looking away.

"Luke? He's doing well." Chandler walked farther into the room.

"I'm so sorry." Monica brought her hands to her face before sobbing.

"Oh, Mon." He immediately softened and walked over to her, bending down before her and taking her into his arms.

"I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't want to, I know I shouldn't…" She spoke quickly through her tears.

"Monica-"

"No, Chandler, what's wrong with me?" Her tears stopped momentarily. "I've wanted to be a mother for as long as I can remember, and now I'm holding back from my son. I go in there everyday and see these parents in adoration of their children. They sit there so happy that their children are _there, they're just happy to have whatever time that they can get with them, but I'm not satisfied with that. I won't let myself connect with Luke __because he's there. I don't want the now, I want a future, and because that was uncertain I with held myself from my son. I kept myself away." She admitted out loud, and upon hearing it with her own ears she felt as though she was 100 times worse than she'd originally perceived herself as._

"Monica, you're scared, there's nothing wrong with being scared." Chandler attempted, seeing how upset everything was making her, and realizing that he couldn't resent her for anything.

"But taking it out on Luke? If something had happened, or if something does, he should have at least known a mother for what little time had." She allowed Chandler to embrace her.

"I know how you feel Monica, and you're doing this because you love him so much. You love him more than you know how to handle, and you're scared of loosing him. Hell, I'm scared too." He regretfully began to cry. "I was going to run in the other direction, but Monica, him and you, you and him, you're all that I have. You're my entire family, the day he was born, the day we were married, it all comes together to form who I am, and I couldn't run because I'm scared of being alone. It's been me for so long that I've clung to him unlike anything else. He's my chance at normalcy. He's my chance at a family."

Monica said nothing, her eyes filled with tears, matching the tears held by Chandler's eyes. They'd been through so much, but finally she was able to find some trace of the old him she'd fallen in love with as well as the new him which she loved unconditionally. The way he was with their son, the way he was so delicate with her, and the way he was always so intent on setting things right between them made her suddenly feel at ease.

"I've missed out on the first few weeks of his life, and I just don't know if it's fair to run to him now and hope everything can be okay." She spoke her fears.

"You're his mommy." Chandler laughed, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "You're going to be fine with him, I know it." He finished with a smile.

"I'm just so scared of something happening. I can't live in the now, I'm always thinking about the future." She paused. "I'm selfish. I'm trying to save myself."

"Baby, you're not selfish, and to tell you the truth, I'm constantly thinking about the future." He paused. "I sit with him, and I talk to him, and all I can think about is when we're going to have our next one." He hinted. "I think about his future, too. I wonder if he's going to like sports, if he's going to be the first basemen on his little league team or the leading scorer on his hockey team. Or, ya know, he may not even like sports. He might like playing guitar, or drums. He may be a genius." Chandler punctuated his words with a sigh.

"But still-"

"But nothing. Have you noticed that all we do is dwell on the past?" He found some inner strength, and had blindly stumbled upon the root of most of their problems. "We need to move on. You are going to be an amazing mother, and I'm going to do my best to be a good father. We're going to take each day, get through what we have to, because I love you," He hesitated, lowering his head before raising it with a smile. "And Luke loves you, and there's really nothing more to it." He finished simply, and while Monica thought she should say something she knew that there was nothing more to say.

------

i came cryin' to you came on my knees   
beggin father lift me up please   
but no, as i came down, no flower out   
just emptiness inside of me   
  
oh light lift me up, please lift me up   
come down and pick me away   
forgive me all my selfish ways   
sweet light pick me up from my misery

------

"Here, sit down." Chandler lifted Luke slowly from his little bed as Monica sat herself down in the rocker. "There you go, Mommy." He placed Luke gently into Monica's arms.

Monica's breath shook as she allowed herself to be consumed by her son for the first time since his birth. "Hey there." She spoke softly, gently, as the tears rolled down her cheeks. The hospital was cold, uncomfortable and dreary but Luke filled her with unmistakable warmth, changing and transforming everything she thought she knew and placing her in a whole new world.

He'd lifted her from this mundane routine, taken her life and made it whole, answered her unasked questions and quelled any previous guilt. She would love him unconditionally, she would take him home and she and Chandler would build their fledgling family around this amazing baby boy in her arms. He was her future, and for the first time she allowed herself to live in the now, to admire her son for what he was, not what he would or could be.

"I love you, Luke." She used his name for what seemed like the first time, finally allowing herself to make the reality of her son known to her.

Chandler bent down next to her, kissing Luke's forehead sweetly before looking up at Monica. They were going to be okay, all three of them.

"I love you – both of you." Chandler spoke softly as Luke raised a tiny hand towards his mother.

"Oh." She gasped, slowly brining his tiny hand to her lips and kissing it gently. "I love you too. And thank you, thank you both for everything." She smiled through her tears.

"We're going to okay, babe." He smiled at the realization. They'd made it through everything, and finally, out of the dark the light had lifted them to the place they'd both been searching for for the better half of a year. They were past their petty fights, they were a family, and most importantly they were going to be okay – they were _finally going to be okay._

------

lift me up, sweet light

---

Epilogue to follow.

© Breigh  // 31 August 2002


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